


Smooth As Tennessee Whisky

by KiaraMGrey



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1960s, Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, Angst, Aziraphale is the farmers son, Blow Jobs, But I'm keeping it light, Crowley falls hard and fast, Crowley is a farm hand, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Meetings, First Time, Fluff, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Protective Crowley, Rolls In The Hay If You Know What I Mean, Romance, Slow Burn, Smut, They are completely gone for each other, We all know how this goes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:05:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23837278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiaraMGrey/pseuds/KiaraMGrey
Summary: The year is 1965. After fleeing a bad home life, Crowley has traveled to the U.S. to find work as a farmhand. He thinks that if he just keeps his head down and does his work, nobody will notice him. When he arrives at Fell farm however, his life gets tossed a curve ball. He never could have predicted Aziraphale, the soft spoken farmers son. Together, they find that family doesn't mean just one thing, and love comes in all forms.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Comments: 246
Kudos: 352
Collections: Good Omens Human AUs





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Now that Paper Wings is finished, I thought I would start right away on a new fic. You know, as a treat! This is likely going to be a big one. I've had this idea in my head for so long, and while I hoped it would just magically get written by someone else so that I could just read it, that obviously was not going to happen lol. So I hope you enjoy!

**Idaho, 1965**

Dirt crunched beneath Crowley’s boots, the sound the only proof anyone had walked down this road in an age. There were of course tire tracks and hoof prints, but he hadn’t seen any sign of human life for several miles. The man at the general store had pointed him in this direction with just the names of some roads to go by, but he was fairly sure he was going the right way. For one thing, there weren’t any other roads besides the one he had taken. It was a warm day, far warmer than it ever got in England, and the sweat pooled at the back of his neck and the base of his spine.

Why had he come to the states again? Ah, that’s right. There was nothing for him back there. Nobody to miss him, no home to rest in. When he had climbed onto the boat and sailed across the sea, the idea of the American dream had seemed great. A distant ideal for him to reach for. He had realized soon after arriving that it wasn’t too different from the U.K. He wasn’t fit for most jobs, seeing as he didn’t like dealing with people if he could avoid it, so farm work was the best he could get. He was good with his hands. Stronger than he looked, despite his wiry form. He supposed he could be considered a drifter, seeing as he moved from place to place, never staying in a town for more than a season. What was the point? The people he worked for didn’t care about him. He was replaceable. A temporary, though convenient, fixture.

The first family he had worked for upon reaching the states had been nice enough. A bit too religious for his tastes, but then most people were. Their rigid sets of beliefs gave them a strict outline of who was acceptable and who wasn’t. He had only stayed with them for a few months before moving on, desperate to escape the interests of the youngest daughter, who had somehow gotten into her head that marriage was in the cards for them. He had no idea how, seeing as he had never shown any interest in her beyond polite conversation. Though he had only been eighteen at the time, he knew himself well enough to know marriage to a woman would never be an option for him. But that had been three years ago.

He had worked for several other families since then. There were always people who needed more help, and he was good at proving himself up to the task. This was how he found himself on this worn dirt road, blowing wheat fields on one side and thick woods on the other. The man at the general store had told him there was a farmer here that was looking for an extra set of hands for this season’s crop. Fell farm, he had said.

But after walking about four miles in the heat, he needed a break. With only a slight groan, he dropped himself into the grass on the side of the road. Leaning back on his elbows, he looked up at the clear sky. Only a few white clouds dotted the otherwise pristine view. This was one of the things he had found he loved about the Midwest. The summers could get warm, but at least it didn’t rain all the blasted time. The cicadas chirped all around him, practically making the air buzz with their constant music. The sound was comforting to him. He almost considered just laying back and taking a nap right now. But that wasn't smart. Anyone could come down this road and see a stranger lying about in the grass. It wasn't safe. Small town people didn't like strangers without an introduction. 

Crowley opened his canteen and drank the last few mouthfuls of water. Hopefully, this farm wasn’t too far now. He didn’t mind sleeping in the woods, and there were still a few hours of daylight left, but he if he had somehow gotten turned around and was lost, he would rather just head back to the small town now. He didn’t have much money, just what he had saved from his last job, which amounted to around fifty-five dollars. He would rather not spend it on lodging. But if this Fell farm didn’t pan out, he supposed he would have no other choice. That wouldn’t be ideal. Jobs were hard to come by, and he would need to travel to the next town to find another farm. The longer he was without work, the less money he would have, and the more precarious his situation would become. 

After about fifteen minutes Crowley hauled himself up and began to walk once again. He prayed that it wouldn’t be too much further. It had been a few days since he had had the chance to properly shower and he was beginning to smell a bit ripe, not to mention the stubble on his chin had begun to grow in and was itching something fierce. He could also go for a properly home cooked meal. Not that he was expecting the farm owners to provide that. The last several families hadn’t. He was staff, just a farm hand. Drifters like him were best kept out of sight.

Just as he was beginning to lose hope that he was going in the right direction he came around a bend in the trees, and a property loomed up ahead of him. A two-story white board house sat a quarter mile ahead, a large red barn and a few smaller buildings around it. He hoisted his bag higher on his shoulder and continued closer. Before he could reach the yard in front of the house, however, two large dogs came running around the property, their barks deep and menacing. Crowley froze. He liked dogs, he was just wary around them. Especially strange dogs when he was on their property. They stopped a few feet away from him and continued their assault of barks. Crowley was frozen, his eyes wide behind his sunglasses, not moving them from the sharp teeth.

“You lost friend?”

Crowley looked up at the voice. An older man was now standing on the front porch of the house. He looked late fifties, possibly early sixties, and wore a wide brimmed hat over a scruffy face.

“Ah, no, actually. Are you the owner of this property?”

The man stepped off the porch and made his way across the yard. “That I am. And who are you?”

“Names Anthony Crowley. I heard you were looking for some help around here for the summer.”

The man let his eyes roam down his slender form, and Crowley was sure he knew what he saw. He was used to people underestimating him.

“I am. But I need someone strong. Someone with experience working on farms.”

Crowley gave him his best smile. “That would be me. I’ve worked on five different farms, and never got much of a complaint. I work hard and I’m honest. What more could you ask for?”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “Where’s that accent from?”

“Britain.”

“Humph. My daughter keeps talking about some new-fangled rock band from there. Junk noise if you ask me. How old are you?”

“Twenty-one.”

“Hmm, and what are you doing all the way over here? Why not stay in your own country and work?”

Crowley shrugged and looked off into the distance. Now _that_ was a story he was not going to get into. “Just needed a change of scenery. The rain can get boring.”

The man scratched the back of his neck. “We could use a bit of the rain over here sometimes. What do your parents think about all this?”

Crowley had to physically stop himself from rolling his whole head. This was none of his Goddamn business. “Seeing as I’m a grown man, I don’t see why that matters. I’m just here to make a living.”

“Calm down, son,” the man said, raising his hands. “I didn’t mean any offense. I just know I would want to know what my kids were up to if they went galivanting across the world.” He paused, still looking him over. “You got references?”

“I can give you the telephone number for the last few families I worked for.”

Crowley waited patiently while the man seemed to think. Finally, he shrugged. “Alright, I’ll give you a shot. I’ve been looking for a while to find someone to work over the summer, and you’re the first to answer my call. But one instance of laziness or funny business and you’re out of here.”

Crowley rolled his eyes, thankful for his sunglasses. This treatment wasn’t new. People, especially older people, didn’t trust him. Whatever. He didn’t care, he just needed a job.

The man waved off the dogs. “Ay, git you two! You, follow me,” the man said, and Crowley did. “The name’s Shadwell, but you can call me Mr. Fell. Before this year I had my oldest son Gabriel to help, but he got some fancy job at the bank in town, so he won’t be around much. My younger son Aziraphale is home for the summer, but, well, he isn’t much for hard labor.”

Crowley noted the bitter tone of his voice.

“Too much like his mother, him. Then there’s my youngest, Anathema. She’s seventeen, and obviously she can’t help around here.”

Shadwell suddenly rounded on him. “And you won’t be going anywhere near her, you here? If I even catch you laying a hand on her, I’ll have your head.”

Crowley held both of his hands up. “Wouldn’t dream of.” He wanted to say that his daughter held zero interest for him, but kept his mouth shut.

They continued walking until they reached the barn. “There’s a spare room in the top loft, that’s where you can stay. We’ll provide two meals, one in the morning, one in the evening. We work from six till six each day, for six days each week. You’ll have Sunday off. You a holy man?”

“Uh,” Crowley considered lying, he knew how people in these parts were, but the man waved him off.

“If you aren’t it’s no bother to me. My family goes to church every week, but my daughter is into, well, different sorts of stuff. So as long as you aren’t some devil worshiper, I don’t care.”

“Nope, no devil worshiping for me. Don’t believe much of anything, really.”

“Right. Well, the pay is sixty-two dollars per week.”

Crowley stuffed his hands into his pockets. Well, this had been easy. Far easier than he had been prepared for. With a couple of his past jobs, he had had to beg for work. Really lean into a sob story about searching for the American Dream, and they were the best shot he had. But this Shadwell didn’t seem to care about any of that. “Sounds about fair to me. Should we shake on it?”

Shadwell snorted. “Let’s just take each other at our words. My wife, Tracy, will want you to have dinner with us, I’m sure. It’s served at six thirty. You can get settled today, but we begin working tomorrow.”

Crowley nodded. “Sounds good.”

Shadwell looked him over once more, then turned and headed back towards the house. Crowley watched him, but as he began to turn away, something caught his eye. He thought for a moment he had seen a flash of white hair in the top window, but when he looked back the window was empty. Shrugging it off, he made his way into the barn. It was large and strewn with hay, and when he climbed up the ladder to the loft, he saw that it was plenty spacious. There was a latch window that would look up at the stars at night. Crowley decided this was where he would set up his bed.

It took some time to gather enough hay to make a cushy bed. He only had one thin blanket. Maybe his new employers would be kind enough to let him borrow a more substantial one. He would need some more time to figure these ones out. He had worked for both kind and cruel people, and while Shadwell didn’t seem cruel, he couldn’t come to any conclusions just yet. It was likely that he would have very little contact with the rest of the family. While daughters were indeed often drawn to him, they usually lost interest when they figured out, he wasn’t going to give them any attention.

Crowley dropped back onto the hay and tucked his hands under his head. Now farmers sons… well. He had learned not to look too long, even if he appreciated the sight. He had learned that while working on the first farm when he was only eighteen. He had gotten a black eye and bruised ribs when the older son said he was looking suspicious. No, better to keep to himself. He wasn’t going to find anyone like him out here. And even if he did, he could never act on it. It was too dangerous. People could say they were one way, and then as soon as your guard was down, they could change. No, this truth about himself was best left hidden.

He stretched and looked up at the sky through the open hatch. He would need to ask about taking a shower or bath. Even if he could just fill a bucket with some water to scrub himself off that would be good enough. He glanced at his watch. Four-thirty. Dinner was in two hours. Would they bring the food out to him, or would he have to collect it himself, he wondered? From what he had seen there didn’t appear to be any other workers on this farm, which was different from his last places of employment. There had always been at least a couple of other field hands around to share the space with.

Dust motes floated overhead in the warm May air. He loved this time of year. Right before the full swing of summer hit and everything just felt still. Like the world was getting ready to take a breath. It felt safe, and safety was not something he often was able to feel. Not that he was. Safe, that is. Someone like him always had to be careful. Careful to not say the wrong thing, not to look at the wrong person. He had gotten quite good at defending himself. He was strong and fast and could take most anyone in a one to one fight. But other people had friends. Friends who wouldn’t object to ganging up on the freak. He was alone.

Crowley closed his eyes against the light and laid his head on his folded his arms. There was no use in thinking about that now. The warmth of the day and the long walk were catching up to him, and it wouldn’t hurt to rest his eyes for a bit. He allowed himself to doze, and when he came awake with a start, he couldn’t tell what time it was. The light had shifted, and it was definitely darker than it had been. He dragged his watch to his face. Five after six. Crap. He really needed to clean himself up before he saw anyone else from the family. He climbed down the ladder and searched for a hose. While he couldn’t find one inside the barn, he had better luck outside. Just around the back of the building he found a hose attached to metal piping in the ground. He turned it on, and while at first the water came out scorching hot, it quickly levelled out into a cool flow.

Crowley pulled the hose around to the barn door and dragged it into one of the unused stalls for a bit of privacy. Not that there was anyone around. He stripped off his shirt, then his pants. He had a small bar of soap that he carried with him, and he quickly lathered it up and scrubbed his body and hair with it. A quick rinse later and he was as clean as he was going to get while standing barefoot in a dirt floor barn. He dried himself with his thin blanket and then hung it up to dry before pulling on his pants and shoes. The sound of the barn door creaking made him look up and step out without thinking. Someone was standing in the fading light, just within the entrance, and as Crowley’s eyes fell upon him, his breath caught in his chest.

It was a young man, likely close in age to himself. White blonde curls were backlit by the setting light of the sun. Even in the shadows cast across his face he could make out crystal blue eyes framed by soft white lashes. He was absolutely stunning. He wore tan pants with dark brown oxford shoes that should probably not be worn in the dirt, along with a buttoned up white shirt and tan waistcoat. Crowley had to blink a few times to make sure he was real. With the way he was lit and all the light colors, he looked like what a modern angel might appear as. A beauty no earthly human could possibly possess. And yet he was looking at him. As he took a step towards the angel, he noticed the look of wide-eyed shock on his face. His eyes were trained on Crowley’s chest, and as his brain finally caught up, he realized he was still just standing shirtless in the middle of a barn.

“Oh, shit, sorry!” He grabbed his shirt off the post and turned back to the young man. His eyes were no longer on his chest and his facial expression had settle on what looked like a nervous little smile. He pulled the shirt on and walked towards him, holding his hand out. “Name’s Crowley.”

The man blinked and looked at his hand, before slowly taking it in his own. Where Crowley’s hands were rough with work, this man’s hands were perfectly smooth and soft. He had likely never done a day of hard labor in his life.

 _Good_. Crowley found himself thinking. Which was absurd. He didn’t know this man. But the man smiled wider and shook his hand.

“Aziraphale. My name is Aziraphale.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad you guys are interested in this fic! I think it will be a lot of fun.

Aziraphale reclined in his chair, the afternoon sun streaming in through his window providing the perfect light for him to read by. He could hear his mother downstairs, humming as she baked. Soon the smell of apple pie would drift up to him, and he awaited it anxiously. This was the best part of coming home from college in the summer. Though being around father and Gabriel could be taxing, getting to see his mother and Anathema made it worth it.

He was grateful that his mother had kept his room exactly as he had left it. Simple clean sheets on his wood frame bed, a short bookshelf pushed up against where the ceiling slopped down too low to stand, his record machine in the corner. It was his perfect sanctuary.

His peace was disrupted by the sound of his door being thrown open. He glanced up to see Anathema and smiled.

“What is it now?”

She threw herself onto his bed, her long skirts billowing around her. “Do I need to have a reason to talk to my big brother? I hardly get to see you during the year.”

Aziraphale placed a bookmark to keep his place. “Well, no, but you usually do.”

Anathema smirked. “Can I borrow your work boots?”

Aziraphale let out a put-upon sigh. “What for?”

“Father is refusing to buy me a new pair after I lost my old ones, and I need to go collect some toadstools from the river. Besides, what do you care? You don’t even wear yours!”

Aziraphale shifted and frowned. “That’s not true. I’ve worn them.”

“When?”

“Well, let’s see.” He chewed his lip. “Oh! I wore them when I helped father and Gabriel fix the fence after that storm.”

“That was last summer! Come on, I’ll give them right back.”

“I’ve heard that before,” Aziraphale grumbled. “But fine. They’re in the trunk by my bed.”

She rummaged around for them, and when she found them, held them up like a prized fish. “Ah ha! Here they are.”

“They’re going to be too big for you.”

“Barely. You have tiny feet.”

Aziraphale scoffed. “Actually, my dear, you simply have massive feet.”

Anathema stuck her tongue out. “Whatever you say. Anyways, I’m going to sneak out the back. I saw father on the front porch, and I would rather not get into another argument with him.”

“Good luck.”

Aziraphale waited until she was surely gone to begin reading again. He did hate interruptions. However, it was barely five minutes later that the dogs began to bark wildly. He pinched the bridge of his nose. So much for the stereotype of the countryside being more peaceful.

What were those dogs doing now? Anathema didn’t “believe” in training them, so they ran wild as they pleased. His father’s voice floated up from his open window.

“You lost friend?”

This piqued Aziraphale’s interest. Who had come to the farm that father didn’t know? Setting his book down, Aziraphale moved carefully to the window. He caught sight of a young man standing across the yard, and even at this distance, he made him catch his breath. A shock of red hair could be seen, longer than was typical for most young men around here. He wore all black, despite the heat, and he held a pack on his shoulder. Black sunglasses were set over his eyes. He looked like one of those greasers, only better. There was nothing pretentious about the casual way he stood. He and his father had begun to walk towards the barn, and Aziraphale shook himself.

He was being ridiculous and fanciful. Again. At this distance he couldn’t tell all of that. Perhaps once he got closer, he would see that he wasn’t attractive at all. Doubtful. But still Aziraphale watched. Who was he, and what did he want? He remained at the window and watched as he and his father talked. After a few minutes, his father began to walk back towards the house, leaving the young man beside the barn. The man began to turn, but as he did, he looked right at Aziraphale. With his heart in his throat he leapt away and pressed his back to the wall. It would do no good to look like a Victorian maiden peering down upon a handsome suitor. He waited a moment, and then looked back. The man was gone.

With his curiosity in full swing, he made his way downstairs. His father was already sitting at the kitchen table and taking off his boots.

“Who was that man I saw you talking to?”

His mother came into the room just them. “Man?”

“Ah, just a young man looking for work. I put the word out in town that I needed some help and he answered the call.”

Aziraphale chewed his lip. “Oh, so you hired him? He’ll be here all summer?”

“Well, figured I’d give him a trial run first, see how he does. But maybe. Why?”

“Oh, just curious.”

He of course couldn’t say the truth. He couldn’t say that if he were indeed going to be around, he would likely be spending more time outdoors. Still reading, of course, but the view would be much nicer. So long as he didn’t get caught.

“What’s his name?” his mother asked.

“Uh, Anthony something.”

“And he walked all the way here?”

“Guess so.”

His mother placed her hands on her hips. “Will he be joining us for dinner?”

His father scowled. “I don’t know, do I woman? I invited him, what more do want from me?”

His mother huffed and immediately began to flit around the kitchen. “Well, I wasn’t expecting guests. I’ll need to make sure we have plenty of food. The poor dear is probably starving after walking all the way here.”

Aziraphale smiled and settled into a seat beside the window. His mother had never had a problem of not making enough food.

“Do you think I should get out the good china?” she fretted.

“Oh, for crying out loud! He’s a field hand, not the damn mayor!” his father cried, walking into the other room.

“Don’t you start with that!” his mother shouted. “You know there’s no difference to me. While he’s with us I will treat the dear like one of my own.”

Aziraphale continued to watch as she hurried around the kitchen and considered offering help before deciding he would be more in the way than any actual use. He made his way back upstairs to his room. An attempt to distract himself with a book proved to be no use. His interest in this Anthony was piqued, and it would not be quelled until he met him. Perhaps he would be an absolute ass and Aziraphale would not have to think of him anymore. Because regardless of how handsome he was, Aziraphale would not be attracted to someone who was unkind.

After what felt like an eternity Aziraphale went back downstairs. It was fifteen till six thirty and the table was already set. His mother smiled up at him as he entered the kitchen.

“Zira, daring, would you be a dear and go fetch our new guest for dinner?”

Aziraphale’s stomach swooped. He hadn’t anticipated being alone with the man.

“Of course, mother.”

He made his way out the front door and down the porch steps. He took several deep breaths as he reached the barn door. This was fine. He was around attractive people all the time. He could behave like a normal, civilized person.

When he reached the doors and pushed them open, he didn’t initially see the man. He peered around, but then motion near the stables caught his attention. He turned, and his breathing stuttered. The young man was standing shirtless in the middle of the barn. His red hair was wet and dripping onto his shoulders, which made his bare skin glisten in the light that was coming in from behind Aziraphale. Dear God, he was stunning.

He became aware that he was gawking at the same time as the man seemed to come to his senses.

“Oh, shit, sorry!” He grabbed a black shirt that was hung over a post and pulled it on as he approached and held out his hand. “Name’s Crowley.”

Aziraphale stared dumbly at the hand being offered before blinking and taking it. The skin was rough from hard work and the fingers that closed around his revealed incredible strength. Aziraphale did his best to appear normal and smile.

“Aziraphale. My name is Aziraphale.

The corner of Crowley’s mouth quirked up. “Aziraphale? That’s quite a name.” 

Aziraphale realized he was still holding his hand and released it. “Ah, yes. Unfortunately, my mother is fond of unique names, just ask my sister Anathema. Father got to name my older brother, Gabriel, and mother got us. Took a bit of liberties, hah.” 

He knew he was rambling and snapped his mouth shut. Crowley raised an eyebrow. Aziraphale wanted to smack himself. He was obviously coming across as a complete dunce. But then Crowley smiled wider.

“Nah, I think it suits you.”

Aziraphale blinked. “You do? How so?”

Crowley shrugged. “It’s the name of an angel, isn’t it?”

Aziraphale nodded, still not following as to why it suited him. “Yes?”

Crowley opened his mouth, and snapped it back shut. His face seemed to close off then, and Aziraphale wondered what had come over him. When it didn’t look like he was going to elaborated, Aziraphale cleared his throat.

“Er, right. Anyways, I was coming to invite you to dinner. Would you like to come?”

Crowley shrugged. “If you want me too.”

“Well, of course I want you to. Er, um, that is my mother wants you too. Ha, very hospitable my mother. I am as well, but, well, I didn’t make the dinner. Although that’s not entirely true. I did help with the filling for the pie.”

A slow smile grew on Crowley’s face at his rambling. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, yes, just a bit warm.”

Crowley watched as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his damp forehead.

“Well, you are wearing what looks like five layers,” he said motioning to his tan overcoat. “It might help to take a few off.”

Aziraphale glanced down at himself and chuckled. “Yes, well, we can’t all look as good as you without clothes on.”

Crowley’s eye widened at the same time as Aziraphale realized what he had said. He turned several shades of pink.

“I… that’s not… I didn’t… Come to dinner when you are ready.”

He spun around and marched out of the barn, not waiting to see what Crowley’s response would be. Oh, he had never been so embarrassed in his life. He wanted to fling himself down the well. What in God’s name had come over him? He had just made himself out to be a complete moron in front of the most gorgeous man he had ever seen. When he walked into the house, he must have worn a peculiar expression, because his mother stopped what she was doing and frowned at him.

“Zira, are you alright?”

He blinked and shook his head. “Hm? Oh, yes, fine. Crowley will be coming along shortly.”

His father narrowed his eyes from where he sat at the head of the table. “Why’re you calling him by his last name?”

Aziraphale shrugged and took his usual seat near the window. An extra chair had been set out beside him along with the one across from him that Anathema usually took. “That’s what he told me his name was.”

“Hmph. Pretentious.”

“None of that now,” his mother chided, just as the door opened and Crowley stepped in.

The dark shadows of the barn hadn’t done his beauty justice. At this distance and in the bright lights of the kitchen, Aziraphale could see just how vibrant the shade of his hair was. He smiled uncertainly, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Er, hello.”

“Oh, hello dear!” his mother cried, stepping towards him with her hand out. Crowley shook it. “Oh, neither of my young men mentioned how handsome you were!”

“Why would we?” his father grumbled.

Aziraphale looked up and immediately caught his eyes. And oh, they were breathtaking. The color of warm honey on a sunny afternoon. He swallowed and forced himself to look away. He could do this. He could force himself to not stare at this movie star looking man in his home.

“Please, take a seat,” his mother said, motioning him forward.

Crowley walked forward and dropped into the seat across from Aziraphale. Aziraphale focused very hard on the design of his plate.

“Zira, do you know where Ana went off to?”

He cleared his throat and looked at his mother. “Um, she mentioned something about going down to the river for toadstools.”

As if on cue, the door slammed open and Anathema stomped in. She had stripped off her flowing skirts and was wearing a pair of loose pants and Aziraphale’s now very muddy boots. She plopped a bucket onto the floor near the door.

“Anathema!” her mother scolded. “You’re an absolute mess!”

Anathema smiled and pulled her hair back away from her face. “And that’s different from usual how?”

Tracy placed her hands on her hips. “We have a new guest!”

Anathema frowned and turned her eyes to Crowley, who was staring at her with raised eyebrows.

“Who’s he?”

Tracy sighed. “Anathema…”

“It’s fine,” Crowley said with a wave of his hand. “Name’s Crowley.”

“Well, Crowley,” Anathema said as she walked up to him. “Why are you in my seat?”

Crowley looked down at the chair he was in, uncertainty crossing his face. Aziraphale wanted to smack Anathema.

“Er, sorry, didn’t realize there were assigned seats.”

“There aren’t,” Aziraphale assured him. “Anathema, just sit next me, please.”

She huffed and rolled her eyes but did what he said.

“Ana, please at least go wash your hands before sitting down for dinner,” her mother begged.

“Ugh, all of you want something from me!”

Anathema stomped away towards the bathroom, and as Aziraphale watched her go with a fond smile, his eyes caught on Crowley once more. He was staring right back, but upon meeting eyes, immediately looked away.

Aziraphale redoubled his efforts to focus on his plate. After what he had said in the barn, he likely thought he was a complete freak. Because really, who says that to someone they’ve just met? It was completely improper.

Anathema returned with considerably cleaner hands and threw herself down into the chair beside Aziraphale. “What’s for dinner?”

“Roast with potatoes and carrots,” their mother said as she took her seat.

Anathema sighed. “Potatoes, shocker.”

At Crowley confused look, she elaborated. “Seeing as potatoes are the main crop we grow here, we have it with pretty much every meal.”

“Ah,” Crowley said with a smile. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with that. I love a good potato.”

Anathema snorted. “You say that now. Give it a couple months and you’ll never want to see one again.”

Crowley shrugged one toned shoulder. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. I just take what I can get.”

“Now see there, that’s the sort of man I can respect!” his father said, slapping the table. “A man who knows how to appreciate what he’s got is a good one in my books.”

“Yes, yes, well let us bow our heads and pray before this food gets too cold,” his mother said, holding out her hands to Anathema and Crowley. Crowley looked a bit uncertain, but he reached out and took the offered hand all the same.

Once all of their heads were bowed, his mother began the prayer. “Thank you, Lord, for the meal we’re are about to receive. Thank you for blessing our family with good health and fortune and providing us with shelter over out heads. Thank you for giving Gabriel the opportunity at this new job. And thank you for bringing Crowley to our home.”

Aziraphale had been peaking at Crowley throughout the prayer, and at this, his eyes snapped open and he looked up at Tracy. He had clearly not been expecting that. When his eyes met Aziraphale’s and he saw him watching him, he closed his eyes once more.

“We are grateful for everything you have provided us with.”

Everyone dropped hands and did the sign of the cross and mumbled “In the name of the father, mother, and hold spirit. Amen.”

Everyone except Crowley, who just looked a bit uncomfortable. They began to pass around the food, and of course his mother dove right into her interrogation.

“So, Crowley, you’re from London?”

Crowley spooned some potatoes onto his plate and nodded. “Yep. Born and raised there.”

“And why did you decide to come to the states?”

Crowley shrugged. “Was just looking something different. Someplace a bit dryer.”

“Mmm, that makes sense. And have you enjoyed it here?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s been great. Been here for about three years now.”

“And how old did you say you were?”

“Twenty-one.”

“Oh!” his mothers face lit up. “You’re only a year older than Zira here. It’ll be good having you here for the summer then. Zira could use some company. You two should spend time together.”

Once again, their eyes met, and Aziraphale fought the blush that wanted to blossom across his face. He wanted to say that yes, he would very much enjoy spending time with him. Even if he could just look at him, that would be fine. Nothing would ever come from it, of course. But he could still admire what he could never touch.

Crowley smiled and nodded. “Yeah, that could be fun.”

“And what _do_ you like to do for fun?” Anathema asked.

“Oh, um, you know. Normal stuff. I enjoy making music and reading?”

“Oh, do you?” Aziraphale said, speaking up for the first time. Even his initial embarrassment couldn’t be deterred by his love for books. “What do you enjoy reading?”

“Oh, this and that. I really enjoy Edgar Rice Burroughs.”

Aziraphale smiled wider. “Oh, I do love his work as well! Which of his works was your favorite?”

“I was always partial to A Princess of Mars. Something about the story of a man being transported to a place where he initially thought he didn’t belong, only to find it suited him better than the place he had originally come from, I always really enjoyed it.”

Aziraphale was practically vibrating in his seat. Whenever he came home, he resigned himself to being the lone bookworm. Sure, Anathema and his mother read, but not in the way that he did. They didn’t feel the same rush as he did when discussing a particularly interesting plot line or character motivations.

“Oh, yes, that is a lovely story. I’m a bit more inclined towards the classics. You know, Jane Austen, Mark Twain, William Shakespeare.”

“Mm, yeah,” Crowley nodded. “Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale, Her infinite variety, other woman cloy. The appetites they feed, but she makes hungry, where most she satisfies.”

Aziraphale knew his mouth was hanging open. “You can quote Shakespeare?”

“Well dang, you’re a man after my brothers own heart,” Anathema said with a smirk.

Crowley suddenly looked extremely uncomfortable, and Aziraphale could have kicked her.

“Er, right. It’s no big deal.”

“And you said you enjoy playing music?” his mother asked. “Do you play an instrument or sing?”

“Um, bit of both. I can play the guitar. I don’t own one anymore, but when I did, I enjoyed playing it.”

“Oh, well isn’t that lovely?” his mother cooed. “It seems we have a talented man on our hands.”

Crowley blushed and focus on his meal. “Nah, not really. Wasn’t great, just did it for fun.”

They settled into silence after that, everyone focused on their meals. Aziraphale tried very hard to not look, but his eyes kept darting up to the red head across from him. He was most assuredly straight. He would need to keep a very tight lid on this growing crush, or the consequences could be most severe. Crowley would likely leave, or worse. While he didn’t seem like a violent man, he didn’t know him well at all. Straight men had been known to react with anger and violence when their masculinity was threatened. Aziraphale had seen that firsthand during his first year in college. No, he would have to keep his distance. He could be polite to Crowley, but nothing more.

After everyone finished dinner Aziraphale began to gather all the plates. It was his turn to do the dishes tonight.

“Do you need some help cleaning up?”

Aziraphale turned around from where he had piled the dishes by the sink to find Crowley standing in the middle of the room, his hands in his pockets. He was looking at him with an open, polite expression. His mother and father had already retired to the family room and Anathema had gone up to her room. He swallowed, nervous once more at being alone with him.

“Oh, that’s alright. I’m used to cleaning up on my own.”

He smirked. “Just because you’re used to it, that doesn’t mean you have to. It’s really no problem, I want to help. Earn my keep.”

Aziraphale bit his lip and turned back to the sink. “Yes, alright. You can dry and put away.”

Crowley came to stand beside him, and the sudden proximity made Aziraphale feel a bit dizzy. His arm was only inches away from him. Aziraphale shook his head. Stop that! He had about as much chance of having Crowley as he did the President. He had to get this silly notion out of his head.

He rolled up his sleeves and began to wash and scrub the first plate, and the hot water helped to clear his head. The monotonous motion of scouring the dinnerware grounded him. Once it was rinsed, he turned to hand it to Crowley, and found those golden eyes trained to his bare arms. He cleared his throat and the red head jumped.

“Sorry! Got a bit lost in my thoughts.”

Aziraphale smiled kindly. “That’s alright. I’m often in a world of my own as well.”

Crowley took the plate, and when their fingers brushed, it was like a jolt of electricity running up his arm. He tried his best to not jump. Crowley didn’t seem to notice and only returned his smile.

“I’m sure your world is great. Filled with books and all your favorite things.”

Aziraphale laughed, feeling some of the tension leave his body. “That’s accurate. Books, pie, cake, tea, Elvis.”

“You like Elvis?”

“Oh, yes, quite a bit. I’m not usually much for modern music, preferring classical and opera, but I must say there is something about Elvis that I find enjoyable.”

“Same. I went to one of his concerts a few years ago when I was still in London. He was great.”

“Oh, you’re quite lucky. I haven’t gotten the chance to go see him yet. What was he like?”

“Oh, you know,” Crowley shrugged. “He knows how to work a crowd all right. There’s a reason they don’t show him from the hips down on television.”

Aziraphale threw his head back and full out laughed at that. Crowley’s smile grew, a bit of a wicked glint to his eyes.

“I had heard about that. He caused quite the stir up.”

“You can say that again. Young women were fainting all over the place, acting like complete fools. But not me, I kept my head.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “Well yes, you aren’t a woman.”

Crowley’s smile slipped. “Oh, well yeah, obviously. But if it had been, um, Audrey Hepburn, I would have been absolutely done for.”

Aziraphale’s smile fell as well. “Oh, yes. She’s, um, quite pretty. Very attractive.”

An awkward silence settled over them and they went back to their task. Once they were finished and all of the dishes were put away, Aziraphale clasped his hands behind him and rocked back on his feet.

“Well, it’s getting late. I’ll be heading up to bed now.”

“Of course, right. Me too.”

They stood there for a moment more before Crowley turned around and walked out the door. Aziraphale remained in the kitchen, listening to the sound of Crowley walking away across the yard. He then turned and walked up the stairs. Once alone in his room, with the door firmly shut, he collapsed onto his bed. He felt like he had been running a marathon for hours. His heart rate wouldn’t slow down, and he felt dizzy. He had to get this under control. He had been around handsome men before and had never had this sort of reaction.

_Because they’ve never been quite as beautiful as Crowley. We’ve never seen anything like him before._

He closed his eyes against those thoughts. They were true, but that didn’t mean he had to pay them any mind. Crowley was just a person. An attractive person, yes. But years from now when he looked back on this, he would just laugh at that silly crush he had had on that one field hand. Crowley would leave when the summer was over and he would go back to college, and they would never see each other again.

He nodded to himself. In the warm darkness of his room, this made sense. He would allow himself to admire from afar, but he would not get too close. Crowley was temptation incarnate, but he was smarter than to reach for this particular apple. No, Crowley was off limits.

* * *

As soon as Crowley reached the barn and shut the door, he collapsed onto the floor. He took deep breaths and tried to clear his mind. What was wrong with him? Why had he thought it was a good idea to put himself so close to him like that? Well, he knew why he had thought it was a good idea. He was an idiot. When Aziraphale had rolled up his sleeves to reveal those strong, toned arms, Crowley had almost reached out and touched them. They were dusted in fine blond hair that shone in the light, and when he leaned in to scrub hard, Crowley had been transfixed on the way the muscles had moved and flexed. He wanted to be that plate. He had even gotten hard in his pants at the thought. And then he had gone and gotten caught staring, like a freak. He had just barely met this man, and already his thoughts were getting away from.

He somehow managed to climb the ladder to the loft and collapsed into his bed of hay. He had to get this under control. He couldn’t go around straining his pants every time he looked at that angel. He would most certainly be branded a pervert. But he knew the only way for him to keep in control around him was to take care of it while he was alone. He listened intently, making sure nobody was going to walk in on him. He highly doubted anyone would be coming out here in the night.

He shifted the blanket beneath him and then slid down his pants. His erection sprung free, and his hissed as the cool air rushed around it. He took himself in hand and began to slowly stroke himself. An image of Aziraphale filled his mind. He imagined him being in here with him. He imagined him kneeling beside him, using his own much softer hand to slide up and down Crowley. In his mind, Aziraphale smiled sweetly at him.

_You’re so lovely Crowley. So beautiful._

He gasped out loud, that smooth accent of his permeating his mind. He imagined Aziraphale leaning close and whispering in his ear.

_That’s it. So good. You’re so good, aren’t you?_

Crowley nodded to the imaginary voice, his hand picking up the pace.

_That’s what I thought. You’re so helpful. Do you want me to help you?_

“God, yes!” he whispered to the darkness.

_Alright, darling. I’ll help you. Just lie back like a good boy and let me take care of you. Is that ok?_

“Yes, angel, please.”

He closed his eyes tight and fucked into his hand. His breathing was ragged as he imagined Aziraphale’s mouth on the side of his neck. Those delicate, pink lips whispering his desires into him. It made him lightheaded.

_Come on darling, you can come for me, can’t you?_

“Yes, yes, yes,” he chanted.

When he came, he had to bite down on his arm to stifle his moan. He collapsed back and tried to get his breathing under control. He opened his eyes to the dark loft, the only light coming in from the open window overhead. He was alone. The memory of Aziraphale had faded and left him in a desperate state. Once his head had cleared a bit, he made a face at the mess he had made of his hand. He found a burlap sack off to the side and wiped himself clean on that.

Even the memory of Aziraphale whispering dirty words into his ear was better than anything he had ever experienced before. He had never been so drawn to someone so quickly. This was bad. And very dangerous. When he was around Aziraphale, he was going to need to keep a tight lid on this. He could do it. He had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments are greatly appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

Aziraphale had awoken just after eight am and got ready for the day. He stared at his assortment of clothes, and for reasons he knew but would not voice, took special care in picking out what to wear for the day. It was silly, really. No matter how well he dressed, Crowley wasn’t going to give him a second glance. Primarily because he was not a woman. He sighed. Oh well, he could at least dress nice for his own confidence.

He selected his best white pressed shirt, a deep brown waistcoat that would match his shoes, a well-cut pair of trousers, and a dark blue bowtie to add a bit of color. He smiled at himself in the mirror and nodded. Yes, he looked quite nice if he said so himself.

It was just after eight thirty when he made his way into the kitchen to find his mother seated beside the window with a book and cup of coffee. She smiled when she saw him.

“Well, don’t you look positively dapper.”

He beamed as he poured some coffee for himself and dropped some bread into the toaster. “Thank you, mother. I thought I would put in a bit of effort today.”

“Oh? Any particular reason why?”

He looked at her sharply, but her eyes were steadfastly focused on her book. He cleared his throat.

“No, no particular reason. Just wanted to look nice.”

“Well that’s nice, dear.”

“Yes.” He finished preparing his toast with jam and butter. “I think I’ll eat my breakfast on the front porch this morning.”

“Alright. If you were hoping to see your father or our guest, you may be out of luck though.”

He paused and looked at her, a small crease forming between his eyebrows. “Oh? Why’s that?”

“Your father went out around six to show Crowley around the property and to teach him what needs to be done. They were heading out to the back fields I believe. Won’t be back until lunch.”

“Ah, I see.” Aziraphale squashed down that ridiculous bit of disappointment that rose up inside him. “Well no matter. I had no reason to see them this morning anyways.”

“Alright,” his mother said with a smile, looking up at him. “Just thought I would let you know.”

Aziraphale walked out to the porch and set his cup of coffee on the small table beside the rocking chair and then settled himself in with his toast. It was a nice morning, and while Aziraphale didn’t particularly like outdoor labor, he always enjoyed taking his indoor activities to the outside when it was nice. It was still early, so the thermometer was only reading seventy-one degrees. It would likely get to the low eighties by noon. At least there was a breeze.

After eating breakfast, he went back to his room to retrieve a book before going back to the rocking chair. His mother brought him a glass of iced tea, and he was as comfortable as he was going to get. Just as his mother had said, he didn’t see his father or Crowley all morning. But at around twelve thirty he heard the unmistakable rumble of his father’s truck coming up the road. Sure enough, the large blue truck drove into the front lot and stopped. His father climbed out first, and then from the other side Crowley emerged. Aziraphale froze with his cup halfway to his mouth.

It appeared that Crowley had started out the day in a long sleeve, but at some point it must have gotten too warm, because shirt was currently tied around his waist by the sleeves. Instead he wore only a black tank top. His skin glistened with sweat in the bright sunlight as he walked towards Shadwell. And that wasn’t the only thing that caught Aziraphale’s attention. He had tied his hair back into a low bun at the base of his neck and a few strands had broken free to fall around his face.

He laughed at something his father said, and it was the most beautiful sight Aziraphale had ever seen. Shadwell pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and handed one to Crowley, which he took with a thanks. Crowley pulled a matchbook out of his pocket and lit one before holding it up to his face. Aziraphale swallowed and licked his lips as Crowley slid the cigarette between his lips and took a drag. His mind raced to other things he might put between his lips. But then they were walking towards him and he blinked rapidly and took a large gulp of tea.

His father stomped up the steps and nodded to him. “Hello, son. Crowley, you wait out here. The missus gets cross when there are too many people moving around the kitchen at once.”

Crowley did a sort of salute. “Yes, boss.”

His father disappeared inside, and Crowley leaned against the post in front of Aziraphale. He took another drag from his cigarette and then tilted his head back and blew up it into the air. Aziraphale’s eyes lingered on the curve of his throat. He had a very nice throat. Muscled and tan, his Adam’s apple prominent. He could imagine what it would feel like the run his hand down it, to kiss it and suck and oh dear Lord what was he doing? He had said he would keep this under control! He moved eyes back to his book.

“What are you reading today?”

“Wuthering Heights.”

Crowley smiled, showing off straight, gleaming teeth. “Another classic, huh?”

Aziraphale shifted in his seat. “There’s nothing wrong with classics.”

Crowley looked away. “Never said there was.” They fell into silence and Crowley brought his eyes back to him. “I like your bowtie.”

Aziraphale looked up in surprise. He honestly hadn’t expected Crowley to notice. He smiled brightly, preening a bit. “Oh, oh well thank you! I thought it would add a bit of color.”

Crowley nodded, his eyes trained to his neck. “It does. Brings out your eyes.”

Aziraphale raised his eyebrows and Crowley’s face twitched. “Just, you know, they’re both blue. Just an observation.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Aziraphale agreed.

His father returned from the kitchen then, carrying two canteens and two brown paper bags.

“Come on, I’ll show the rest of the property and then we’ll have lunch in the truck. Let’s leave Aziraphale with his books.”

Aziraphale had to bite his lip to stop himself from saying that he wouldn’t mind if Crowley wanted to stay and have lunch with him. But Crowley was not here for him. He was here to work, and he didn’t need to be commandeering him away from his father at every chance. His father made his way toward the truck, but Crowley remained for a moment more and gave him one last smile.

“I’ll see you later?”

“Oh, yes, indeed. At dinner.”

Crowley nodded and took anther drag before turning and following his father. Aziraphale let out a breath and leaned back in his chair. This might be more difficult that he had originally thought.

* * *

Crowley sat in the truck and ate his ham and cheese sandwich in silence. The radio was on, playing some old song from the forties, but neither he nor Shadwell spoke. Shadwell seemed to enjoy talking well enough. They had joked and talked about all sorts of things for most of the morning, but it seemed that to Shadwell, eating was a time for peace and quiet. Crowley didn’t mind.

His thoughts were too filled with blue eyes and sweet smiles to provide quality conversation at the moment. He thought he had done a good job of keeping himself contained when he had seen Aziraphale. He had done his best to give out his best “I’m very cool and unbothered” vibes. But when Aziraphale had positively beamed at him, he felt like he had been momentarily blinded. It was like driving down a dark lane at night, only to have a ray of light shot straight into your eyes without having time to adjust. It had nearly knocked him off course. He had said something stupid about it matching his eyes. Why did he have to let his stupid mouth run away from him?

They finished their lunches and then Shadwell explained the schedule and where they would be each day. There weren’t any animals on this farm, not that sort of farm, besides the dogs Lilith and Lucifer. When he had raised his eyebrows at that, Shadwell had just waved his hand. Apparently, Anathema had named them and refused to call them anything else, and now the dogs would only respond to those names.

They strictly grew potatoes, and while Crowley didn’t actually know anything about growing or harvesting potatoes, he was a quick learner. By the time six o’clock came around, Crowley was feeling tired and hungry again. They made their way back to the house and Crowley pulled his long sleeve back on. He was hot, but he hadn’t been born in a barn, despite what some may think.

When he walked into the kitchen, he saw that the table was already set and Aziraphale was helping his mother to put plates of food onto the table. He hadn’t noticed Crowley yet and was humming softly. When he turned and saw Crowley, he immediately stopped. He wished he wouldn’t.

“Go wash up, dears. The table is all set,” Tracy said.

Crowley went into the small downstairs bathroom first and scrubbed his hands and arms until the were pink, and then cleaned his face. He stared at himself in the mirror. His too yellow eyes stared back at him and he grimaced. Why couldn’t he have been born with green eyes, or brown, or even blue? But no, he had been cursed with these strange, off putting things. He sighed. Oh well. Nothing he could do about it now.

He went back to the kitchen and took his seat across from Aziraphale and Anathema. Aziraphale was focusing on his napkin, rolling in between his fingers. Great, he had probably made him uncomfortable today with the eye comment.

Once Shadwell was sitting, they began to say grace, only to be interrupted by the sound of a car pulling up outside. Tracy frowned.

“I wasn’t expecting anybody, were you?” she asked her family. Everyone shook their heads.

They all listened to the sound of footsteps on the porch, and then the door swung open. A tall man walked into the room without knocking. He was probably a few years older than Crowley and built like a rugby player. His dark hair was cut short and he wore a well-tailored suit that clearly stated he had money. He was objectively handsome, but not Crowley’s type at all. He smiled widely to the room and Tracy leapt up.

“Oh, Gabriel! We weren’t expecting you!”

Ah, so this was Gabriel? Aziraphale’s older brother. The two looked nothing alike, though Anathema had more in common with the dark-haired man before him.

“Sorry about intruding, mother,” Gabriel said, his voice much too loud for the small space. “I don’t normally get off from the bank until seven thirty, but I got out at six today. Thought I would pop by to have dinner with you all.”

“Oh, don’t be silly, you aren’t intruding. This will always be your home. Let me just pull out an extra chair!”

Gabriel smiled and looked at the rest of the room, but when his eyes fell on Crowley, he frowned.

“Who are you?”

“Oh, Gabriel, this is Crowley. Now that you won’t be around to work on the farm, we’ve hired him to help out.”

“Oh, right. Mr. Tyler mentioned something about a man coming to town looking for work. Well! Pleasure to meet you.”

He stepped forward and held out his hand. Crowley stood and shook it. “Yeah, same mate.”

Gabriel’s eyebrows shot up. “A foreigner?”

“Crowley is from London!” Aziraphale piped up.

Both men turned to look at him. Aziraphale seemed to shrink under their dual stares. “Um, isn’t that right Crowley?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Ah, well, I’ve heard London is quite nice. Might go there next year for my honeymoon.”

“Ugh,” Anathema made a face. “So you’re really going to go ahead and ask Michael to marry you?”

Gabriel took the new seat beside Crowley. “Yes, why wouldn’t I?”

“She’s the worst! She’s a complete priss. She’s thinks she’s so much better than anyone else.”

Gabriel frowned. “Well, her father is the Mayor.”

“So what? That doesn’t make her better. And she’s so boring! Her idea of a fun night is to sit in silence a contemplate how many souls she’ll consume the next day.”

“Ok!” Tracy said loudly, just as Gabriel was about to retort. “Shall we say grace? Gabriel?”

He cleared his throat, still shooting an angry look at Anathema, who only smiled sweetly. “Yes, of course mother.”

Gabriel said grace, and Crowley thought he was holding onto his hand a bit too tightly. He didn’t know what he had done. He hadn’t been the one to call his soon to be fiancé a succubus. Once everyone’s plates were filled with food, Gabriel began to speak again.

“But like I was saying, before I was interrupted,” another glare at Anathema, “Michael has been talking about going to London for years. She says they are the height of the fashion industry.”

Anathema snorted. “Like she would know. Does she actually wear anything besides grey business suits? She looks like she wakes up every morning and thinks ‘Hmm, how can I come across as the dullest person alive today?’.”

“Oh, and you would know? You dress like a wannabe witch every day.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wannabe about it! I am a witch!”

Shadwell groaned. “Ana, please, don’t say that.”

Anathema shot her father a furious glare. “Why not? Afraid the townspeople will gather their pitchforks and burn me at the stake? Just like your Great-great-great grandmother? Well I have news for you, father. She was a witch, and I’m just like her.”

Shadwell looked like he was in physical pain. “You don’t need to broadcast it! Do you want to be completely shunned from the town?”

She shrugged. “I don’t care. The cool people will still like me. Bee thinks it’s interesting.”

At the name of Bee, Crowley noticed Gabriel flinch. “You shouldn’t talk to her, Anathema. She’s a bad influence. She and her brother are into all sorts of shady business.”

A slow smile spread across Anathema’s face. “And you would know, would you Gabe?”

He glowered at his plate. “Everyone knows it! Her cousins are clearly mafia and they seem to have the police in their pockets.”

Anathema waved her fork. “And that is precisely why it’s a good idea to be friends with them. When the towns people come for me, she’ll have my back. And nobody wants Bee to set Hastur on them. It didn’t work out for the last people if I recall.”

Crowley had been listening with rapt attention. This conversation had been one of the more interesting ones he had been privy to in a long time. He thought that he might indeed like to meet this Bee.

“Alright, let’s talk about other things,” Tracy cut in. “How is the job going, Gabriel?”

Gabriel set off on a long diatribe about the inner working of the bank and why he was so important to keep it running. Crowley zoned out a minute in, as did Anathema it seemed, as she was now sullenly pushing her peas around on her plate. Crowley looked at Aziraphale and saw that he seemed to be trying to pay attention to whatever it was Gabriel was saying, but he was having a hard time. Crowley had an idea. He moved his peas around on his plate, and then gently kicked Aziraphale under the table. Aziraphale jumped, but only slightly. He looked at him with wide eyes, and Crowley motioned to his plate.

**Bored?** Was spelled out with peas. A delighted little smile lit up Aziraphale’s face and he immediately began to arrange his own peas.

_Can you tell?_

**A smidge**

_Oh dear._

**Its ok. Smile n nod.**

Aziraphale raised a hand to his mouth to hide his laugh. When their eyes met, his were alight with mischief.

_Shall I knock over my glass?_

**_?_ **

_An excuse to leave_

**Take me with**

Aziraphale stifled a giggle again and nodded. Crowley smiled indulgently, and then looked over at Anathema. She was watching them with an amused little smile, one eyebrow raised. Crowley felt a blush creep up his neck. He had momentarily forgotten it wasn’t just him and Aziraphale at the table. He cleared his throat and tried to listen to what Gabriel was saying again. He seemed to have moved on to talking about the housing market. Even Tracy seemed to be struggling to pay attention. Crowley decided he needed a moment to himself.

“Excuse me, I’ll be right back.”

Gabriel didn’t even pause in his lecture. Crowley made his way down the hall and into the restroom. He leaned against the door and took a deep breath. Crap. He hadn’t expected Aziraphale to be funny. He would have to add that to the growing list of things he found endearing. He used the restroom and then washed his hands before opening the door. He almost yelped when he came face to face with Aziraphale, who was standing in the hall.

“Christ, Aziraphale, you almost gave me heart attack!” he said in a whisper.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. I just thought I would make a quick exit before anyone made a comment. I told my mother I wasn’t feeling well.”

Crowley snorted. “After listening to your brother for that long I don’t blame you.” But then Crowley had a thought that made him cringe. “Sorry, shouldn’t say that about your brother.”

But Aziraphale only laughed quietly and waved him away. “It’s alright. You’re not wrong.” He looked around, and then smiled. “Would you like to go outside and get some air?”

Crowley raised his eyebrows. “Won’t we be missed?”

“Nah, Gabriel will talk enough for everyone and it’s Anathema’s turn to do the dishes. Come on, let’s go out back.”

Crowley swallowed but followed him through the house and out the back door. There was a small set of stairs that led down to the yard and Aziraphale sat on them. Crowley followed his lead. There wasn’t much space on the steps, and Crowley found his shoulder nearly pressing against Aziraphale. There was no light out here besides that of the moon and the lightning bugs that flashed across the yard. They were silent, just the sound of them breathing filling the air. When Aziraphale spoke, his tone was quiet.

“So, how do you like it here so far?”

“I like it well enough. People seem friendly.”

Crowley could see Aziraphale raise his eyebrows in the dim light. “You think my family is friendly? What sort of people have you had to endure?”

Crowley laughed. “Trust me, your family is nothing. A bit of bickering is hardly cause for concern. Believe me, I’ve met some of the most insufferable people.”

“Well, I’m sorry for that.”

Crowley grinned. “Don’t be too sorry. They also had to meet me.”

Aziraphale stifled his giggle, and Crowley watched him with his own pleased smile.

“Oh, stop that! You aren’t insufferable.”

“Don’t jump to those conclusions now. You’ve only just met me. Give it a month and you’ll be dying to get rid of me.”

“I hardly think that’s true my dear.”

Crowley’s heart gave a hard thump in his chest. _My dear._ But he pushed that thought down. It didn’t mean anything. Tracy called everyone my dear, he had clearly picked it up from her.

“Well, we’ll see.”

“If anything, you’ll be bored with me. I’ve been told I can be quite tiresome.”

Crowley narrowed his eyes. “Who told you that?”

“Oh, plenty of people. I get awfully wrapped up in my books and I’m known to defend my opinions quite aggressively if I feel strongly enough about something.”

Crowley snorted. “I would hardly call that a bad thing. I would say it’s plus.”

Aziraphale looked at him. “Really?”

“Er, I mean, yeah. Lots of people don’t have the backbone to go after what they want and just walk through life being who everyone else wants them to be. _That’s_ boring. You aren’t.”

Aziraphale continued to stare at him for a few moments before looking away. “Nobody has ever said that to me before.”

Crowley shifted, feeling a bit uncomfortable. “Well then you’ve been surrounded by knobs your whole life, it seems.”

Aziraphale chuckled quietly. “Knobs. We don’t have that word here.”

“Well, now you do.”

Aziraphale was silent for a moment. “I’ve never had many friends. Even when I lived here full time and was in high school, I never fit in. I was too aloof, too stuffy, too particular, too… different.”

Aziraphale’s eyes were distant as he spoke, and Crowley felt something clench in his heart.

“Yeah, I’m sort of the same.”

Aziraphale turned to him with a look of incredulity. “Pardon me for saying this my dear, but I can hardly imagine you being an outcast.”

Crowley grinned. “Looks can be deceiving. I mean, I had friends. Sort of. Not great ones by any means. We were sort of the outcasts, and I always felt like I was on the fringe of even them. After I left home, I never even considered going back to any of them.

Aziraphale chewed on his lip and then asked, “Why did you really leave home?”

Crowley felt like his insides had turned to ice. He couldn’t possibly tell him the truth. Not the full truth.

“My parents are… strict. They had a rigid set of guidelines for how they wanted to me to live my life. When they found out I wasn’t going to fall in line with that, they kicked me out. Said they didn’t want a son like me. Said I was dead to them.”

He swallowed and glanced over at Aziraphale. Even in the dim light he could see the compassion rolling off him. “I’m so sorry Crowley. You deserved better than that.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat and shrugged. “It’s fine. I don’t need them. I’ve done alright on my own.”

Aziraphale chewed his lip, and the action immediately drew in Crowley’s attention. “Well, my dear, you don’t have to be alone if you don’t want to be. Neither of us have ever had good friends. Perhaps we can be good friends to each other.”

Crowley smiled. He wanted to wrap his arm around the angel beside him and pull him close, but he didn’t. “Yeah, I think I would like that. I could use a friend.”

Aziraphale returned his smile, his blue eyes twinkling. “So could I.”


	4. Chapter 4

Gabriel made his way from his car to the small general store located on the corner of the town square. If there were any other place nearby that he could go to pick up everything he needed, he would. Unfortunately for Gabriel, there wasn’t. And so, Gabriel found himself walking up to the entrance of Morningstar Grocers. If he had any hope that _she_ wouldn’t be in, it was squashed as soon as he saw that VW Beetle at the curb.

The bell over the door rang as he stepped into the store. It was a small place and a quick look around told him that there was nobody else in the shop. He walked to the isle that held the tooth paste and floss and selected what he would need. The sound of gum popping made him flinch. He looked up to the front. She was there, behind the register, with her feet propped up on the counter. She had a magazine in front of her face, but her dark eyes were peering over it at him. He swallowed and looked away.

Gabriel considered himself a confident man. A go getter. A bold, family man sort of guy. Yet somehow, ever since they were teens, a single look from Bee had been enough to silence him. He had never met anyone like her before. When she and her family had first moved to the town ten years ago, she had seemed normal enough. She had come to school in the designated skirts and frilled shirts. But then when her mother left a year later, everything had changed. Bee had come to school with her hair cut off short, a baggy shirt replacing the neat style of the other girls, and inappropriately tight jeans instead of a skirt. It had caused an uproar. The mothers of the student’s had banded together to try to force the school to suspend her. But thanks to her father’s family connections, which nobody talked about, Bee had been allowed to continue on as she had pleased.

This of course hadn’t stopped her from being ostracized at school. Nobody in their small-town high school wanted to be associated with the town weirdo. Bee had never seemed to mind. In fact, when one group of girls tried to bully her, she had given one a black eye and cut off the others ponytail. Bee had even seemed to _want_ the other kids to dislike her. And they had. Well, most of them.

Gabriel approached the counter with his basket and smiled as pleasantly as he could. “Hello Bee.”

She dropped her magazine and gave him a smirk. “Hey there, Gabe.”

“Can you not call me Gabe? It’s Gabriel.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Aww, what, does Gabe make you seem like less of a tough guy?”

Gabriel gave her a quick once over and frowned. Her jet-black hair was cut even shorter than it had been in high school, coming down in black spikes just past her ears. She was wearing trousers just like always and a t-shirt of some band called The Rolling Stones. She noticed him staring.

“Do you listen to them?”

“What?

“The Rolling Stones. Do you like their music?”

“Oh, um, I’ve never heard of them. I’m more familiar with The Beach Boys.”

Bee rolled her eyes. “Ugh, of course you are. You’re so square.”

He straightened his shoulders. “There’s nothing wrong with being a productive member of society.”

“Says you, pretty boy. What’s the point of being all nice and polite all the time? It’s fake and ridiculous.”

“It’s necessary! If everyone were rude to each other whenever they wanted to be then the world would devolve into chaos! We wouldn’t get anywhere.”

Bee smiled like a shark. “I like chaos. I find I thrive in it.”

Gabriel let out a huff and rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’ve noticed. And how many friends do you have?”

“I have Hastur.”

“He’s your brother.”

“And Ligur.”

“He’s Hastur’s friend.”

“And Dagon and Lucien.”

Gabriel flinched at the mention of those names but tried to hide it. Bee’s cousins, Dagon and Lucien, were twins. They were a few years older than them, and everyone knew they were mafia. Gabriel had only been in the same room as them once, and it had given him nightmares.

“Their your cousins. Name one friend that wasn’t forced on you by birth.”

Bee just shrugged. “What do I need other friends for? What, do you want me to ask _Michael_ to go get out hair done together? Shall we go shopping and gossip about the new traffic light that was put up in town? No thanks. I’d rather be alone.”

Gabriel frowned but didn’t argue. It was true that there was nobody else like Bee.

“Still, you could try.”

“Well, do _you_ want to be my friend Gabe?”

“I, what, no, that’s not what I meant!”

Bee narrowed her eyes and smiled. “We were friends once.”

“We- we were never friends.”

Bee raised and eyebrow. “Oh no?”

Before she could say anything else, Gabriel grabbed his toothpaste and floss and ran from the shop. He knew his face was bright red. Why was she able to do this to him? Nobody else could. In every other situation he was able to steam roll his way through a conversation. But not with Bee.

He stopped at his car and took a deep breath. He was fine. He just needed to get back to work and put Bee out of his mind, just like he always did.

* * *

Aziraphale paced back and forth in his room. Every few minutes he would stop and stare out his window. He could see Crowley out there. Or at least, he could see his legs. He was currently beneath the tractor and had been working on it for the past hour. Aziraphale twiddled with the button on his waistcoat, and then made up his mind.

He walked downstairs and into the kitchen. Luckily, it didn’t appear that his mother was in at the moment. Not that it mattered. He didn’t need to have a reason for taking Crowley something to drink. It was warm out and they were friends. Friends did that sort of thing, right?

He poured a glass of lemonade from the pitcher in the refrigerator and made his way out across the yard. The midday sun was beating down hard, so by the time he reached Crowley there was a fine sheen of sweat covering his brow. He stood beside the tractor for a moment, unsure of how to proceed.

He cleared his throat. “Um, Crowley?”

The sound of metal thumping against something was followed by a steady stream of curses.

“God-fucking-dammit- stupid- mother-“ Crowley slid from beneath it and stopped when he saw Aziraphale. “Oh, uh, hey Aziraphale.”

He had a red mark on his forehead from where he appeared to have dropped his wrench, but other than that, he was just as stunning as always. His tank top was white today, or least it had been before it had gotten dirty. His hair was tied back into a tight bun and he was holding a screw in his mouth, which he now spit onto the dirty.

“Oh, dear, I’m terribly sorry! Oh, you hurt your head!”

Aziraphale set the glass of lemonade down onto the ground and knelt beside Crowley.

“No, angel, your pants-“

But Aziraphale wasn’t listening, too preoccupied with leaning in to inspect the mark. This was good, because if he had in fact been paying attention, he would have noticed the small heart attack Crowley had at letting that name slip through.

“Oh, that looks like it’ll leave a bruise. Do you need some ice?” Aziraphale asked, reaching out to touch it.

Crowley had gone very still beneath his touch. In fact, it looked like he wasn’t even breathing.

“Oh, uh, yea- no. No, it’s fine. I’ve had worse.”

Aziraphale realized then just how close he was to Crowley. Their faces were only inches apart and his hand was on his face. He snapped his hand away and leaned back.

“Yes, of course. Terribly sorry.”

He hoped Crowley would attribute the red flush of his cheeks to the heat and not the mix of desire and embarrassment that was coursing through him. “Um, I actually came out here to bring you a drink. It’s so warm out today, and I wouldn’t want you to feel faint.”

Crowley looked at the glass of lemonade he was holding up and raised his eyebrows. “Oh, thanks! You didn’t have to.”

“I know I didn’t have to, but it’s what friends do.”

Crowley accepted the cool glass and took a long gulp. Aziraphale licked his lips as he watched Crowley swallow down the sweet drink. The perspiration on his skin looked like it would taste better than any lemonade ever could. Every fiber in his being wanted to lean forward and run his tongue from collar bone to chin. To see if Crowley would shiver beneath his touch, or even moan. To pin him beneath himself and see if he would go to work on him like he did the tractor.

“Oh.”

Crowley lowered the glass. “What was that?”

“Nothing! Nothing at all! I, um, should be getting back inside.”

Crowley smiled. “Of course. Wouldn’t want that fair skin to get blemished.”

Aziraphale smiled and bit back the thought that he wouldn’t mind it if Crowley wanted to blemish his skin. “No, not at all.”

He stood and turned to leave, but then grimaced down at his pants. The knees were covered in dirt. He bent forward and began to brush them off with some force.

“Ngk.”

Aziraphale frowned and looked over his shoulder. Crowley was steadfastly looking at his nails.

“Did you say something, dear?”

“Hmm? No, didn’t say anything. See you later.”

Aziraphale nodded slowly. “Yes, indeed.”

He walked back to the house and only looked back at Crowley when he was at the door. Crowley was leaning against the tractor, looking up at the sky without a care.

* * *

Crowley reclined back on his bed of hay and stared up at the dark ceiling. It was just after nine and he had left the dinner table around an hour ago. He and Aziraphale had hardly spoken after this afternoon. Crowley hoped he hadn’t done anything wrong. Unless Aziraphale had noticed when he had called him angel, and simply hadn’t said anything about it to be polite. He closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face.

This constantly watching what he was saying and doing was getting exhausting. He hated that he had to moderate every look and touch. To make sure he wasn’t being too obvious. To make sure that this raw desire he felt didn’t bleed out of him like a wound. This attraction he felt was getting to be a bit much. He had only known him a few days, and yet everything he saw made him like the angel more. It would be so much easier if he could just get over this ridiculous crush. Drooling after straight men would never work out in his favor. And even if he wasn’t straight, even if he was gay, that didn’t mean anything. He had been with someone who had claimed to like men before and look how that had turned out. The coward had turned on him. No, he couldn’t risk himself like that again.

God, but earlier when Aziraphale had bent down to brush off his knees he had almost lost it. The pants had stretched and curved around those thick thighs and round ass and all the blood in his body had rushed downward. It had made him dizzy. Maybe he _would_ risk being thrown out on his ass if he could just dig his fingers into the angels.

The sound of the barn door opening and a sudden light filling the space below made Crowley jolt up. He moved slowly and peaked over the edge. Aziraphale was standing in the doorway to the barn, a battery powered lamp held up in his hand.

“Crowley?”

Crowley leaned out further. “Up here, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale jumped as though he hadn’t actually thought Crowley would respond. He lifted the light and looked up at him before smiling. “Oh, there you are.”

“Did you need something?”

“Oh, um, no not really,” Aziraphale shifted back and forth on his feet, looking unsure. “I was actually thinking, and I wanted to bring you something.”

Crowley raised his eyebrows. “What is it?”

Aziraphale lifted his other hand. It was a portable radio with a cassette player. Crowley’s mouth fell open in surprise.

“It’s just, I know you said you like music and you said you didn’t have a guitar anymore so you couldn’t play. But I got this for my birthday. I really prefer my record player though, so I thought that while you’re here you could use it.”

Crowley looked from the radio and back to Aziraphale, and then stood. He climbed down the ladder so that he was standing beside the other. Aziraphale looked a bit nervous, as though he wasn’t sure his gift would be received well.

“Wow, thank you Aziraphale. I’ve never owned a cassette player.”

Aziraphale smiled warmly. “Well, now you can listen to as much music as you like.”

Crowley took the radio and began to fiddle with the dials until music began to stream out of it.

_Oh please, say to me_

_You’ll let me be your man_

_And please, say to me_

_You’ll let me hold your hand_

_I’ll let me hold your hand_

_I wanna hold your hand_

“Oh, I know this song!” Aziraphale exclaimed. “It’s often playing in the afternoon when mother is cooking and listening to the radio.”

Crowley smiled and walked over to sit on a pile of hay and then put the radio down beside him. Aziraphale looked around, and then walked forward to sit on the pile directly across from him.

“Don’t you want to be getting to bed?”

Aziraphale shrugged. “I don’t sleep much. I often toss and turn most of the night.”

Crowley nodded, his thoughts going to other ways to make Aziraphale toss and turn in bed.

“I can’t say I relate. I fall asleep pretty easily, even when I’m just sleeping on piles of hay.”

Aziraphale frowned. “You’ve had to sleep on piles of hay?”

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “Aziraphale, I’m sleeping on a pile of hay now.”

Aziraphale’s widened in horror. “What? Really?”

“I mean, yeah. What did you expect?”

“I, well, I thought my father would at least offer to bring out a mattress for you.”

Crowley shrugged. “It’s fine. I’m used to it.”

“No, it is not fine!” Aziraphale struggled to his feet and Crowley watched him with a bemused smile. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” he called after him but Aziraphale was already gone into the night.

Crowley did as he was told and remained sitting in the same spot. What was Aziraphale doing? A few minutes later he heard footsteps and looked up. Aziraphale marched into the barn, and in his hands were large piles of blanket and pillows.

“You’ll have to forgive me my dear. Tomorrow you can help me bring down Gabriel’s old mattress from his room. It’s too late to bring it down now, but Gabriel has no use for it anymore so it should be fine. I brought what I could to make you more comfortable in the meantime.”

Crowley stared at him with an open mouth. Aziraphale was trying to… take care of him? He had gone out of his way to first bring him a radio and now blankets and pillows? Uh oh.

“Er, Aziraphale, you didn’t need to-“

“And you can stop telling me what I need and needn’t do. I want to. You’re my friend Crowley, I’m not about to let you just sleep in the cold on a hard bed of hay. Now come here and help me get these up there.”

Crowley did as he said. They both took an armful and climbed up to the second floor. Aziraphale peered around the space and frowned. “This won’t do. Are you sleeping there?” He motioned towards the pile beneath the window.

Crowley nodded mutely. Aziraphale dropped is blankets onto the ground and then began to push and mold the hay into a more rectangular shape. Crowley knew he should help him, but he couldn’t take his eyes off him. In the light of the moon he looked ethereal. The pale light made his hair look like a halo and in the shadows, if he squinted his eyes just right, it almost looked like he had wings.

“There,” Aziraphale said, standing back up. “Now bring me those sheets in your hands.”

Crowley did, and together they worked the fitted sheets over the hay. They then laid out the first comforter over it to give it more cushion. Aziraphale fixed the pillows to be exactly right and then laid the final, thinner blanket over top. It looked like a real proper bed now.

Aziraphale stepped back to admire their work. “That’ll have to do for tonight. Tomorrow we’ll bring down the mattress from the house.”

Crowley scratched the back of his neck. “Um, what if your father doesn’t want you to bring it down?”

Aziraphale’s eyes flashed up to him, and for the first time since meeting him, he looked like he could be dangerous if he wanted to be.

“Then I will commandeer Anathema to help me. Father’s no good at telling her no.”

“Yeah, but what if they do-“

Aziraphale let out a huff. “Then I will let you sleep in my bed, for crying out loud!”

Crowley’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open. Well, that had not been what he had expected. And clearly, Aziraphale hadn’t meant to say it either. He sputtered.

“I, er, I only mean that since I don’t sleep much I could rest in the armchair while you slept.”

They stood in silence for several seconds as Crowley thought desperately for something to say.

“Um, thanks. You’re a… a good friend.”

Some of the tension seemed to leave Aziraphale’s body. “Yes, well, I don’t do things in half measures. If I’m going to be your friend, then I want to be the best friend possible.”

Crowley laughed. “I’m beginning to think I’m in a bit over my head here.”

Aziraphale gave a little wiggle that Crowley could only describe as adorable. “Perhaps. You can always change your mind and rescind your offer of friendship.”

Crowley shook his head. “No, I don’t think I will.”

Aziraphale’s smile seemed to soften. “Good. I had hoped that’s what you would say.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bee looked like Joan Jett before it was cool.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Homophobic slurs and racism

Crowley moved slowly through the shop, taking his time to peruse the limited selection of records and books. It was the only store in town that sold this sort of thing, so he would take what he could get. It was Sunday and Aziraphale and his family had gone to church. Crowley had agreed to go into town with them but had refused the offer to join them at the service. It really wasn’t his thing. He didn’t need to be ogled anymore than he already was being.

Crowley was very aware of the shop owners’ eyes following him around as he picked his way through various artists. He had done his best to dress as unassuming as possible. A simple black t shirt, grey pants, and a snakeskin belt. Nothing too flashy or sinister. But even still, his too long hair and tattoo were like a beacon that shouted trouble to these people.

He selected a The Animals cassette and walked to the register. The man eyed him up and down as he rang him up.

“You new in town?”

“Uh, yeah. I’m working on Fell farm.”

The man nodded. “Oh yeah, Shadwell had mentioned hiring someone on. Didn’t say you looked so…”

Crowley raised his eyebrows as the man trailed off. “So what?”

The man grimaced. “So different.”

Crowley grinned widely at that. “That’s the only way to live, innit?”

He took his cassette and slid it into his pocket before making way out onto the pavement. It was bright and sunny, just like it had been every day. He slid his sunglasses out of his pocket and rested them over his eyes. It seemed that service had gotten out because people had begun to fill the streets and cars were driving past blasting music. He smiled and pulled out a cigarette. Aziraphale had said he would meet him outside the book shop at noon, and it was currently five after. He leaned against the brick storefront and waited.

A group of teen girls walked past and he noticed the way they looked him up and down. He smiled and raised and eyebrow. The girls giggled and hurried away. He shouldn’t like doing that as much as he did, but it was always a good ego boost.

“Hello my dear.”

Crowley turned his head to see Aziraphale approaching him. He was in his Sunday best, a full suit in creams and whites.

“Hey, thought you were going to stand me up.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “I got caught up with some of the congregation. You’ll never guess what the main topic of gossip is.”

Crowley tilted his head, pretending to consider it. “It wouldn’t happen to be a tall, dark, devilishly handsome stranger, would it?”

Aziraphale laughed. “You got it in one.”

“I really don’t see what’s so interesting about me.”

“Well, we don’t often get new people in town and you do stand out. Apparently, there’s a rumor going around that you were a circus performer.”

Crowley snorted. “Oh? And what did I do in this circus?”

“It seems to be between a snake charmer or a sword swallower.”

Crowley choked on his cigarette smoke and thumped himself on his chest. Aziraphale’s eyes widened in alarm.

“My dear, are you alright?”

Crowley wiped the tears that had sprung up in his eyes. “I- yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. That just… surprised me.”

Aziraphale smiled. “I believe it might have been the tattoo. They were disappointed when I set them straight. Told them you were just an Englishman who had come here looking for work.”

“Ah man, you should have just let them keep thinking I was some cool rogue.”

“Oh, don’t worry, they’ll still think that. Anathema convinced them you had been a trained marksman in Europe. Now they seem to think you’re some James Bond type.”

Crowley threw his head back and laughed. “Well that’s something. I’ll take it.”

“I thought so.”

They began to make their way down main street. “My parents took the truck back home and will be back to retrieve us around three, so we have some time to kill if you would like.”

“Sure thing. What’s there to do around here?”

Aziraphale sighed. “I’m afraid not much. There is a wonderful ice cream shop just down the road.”

Crowley motioned him forward. “Lead the way.”

They walked down the street side by side and Crowley didn’t miss the stares they were attracting. They no doubt looked odd together. Aziraphale, the well know farmers sun in his best suit, and Crowley, the dark drifter. Oh well, he didn’t care.

They got to the ice cream shop and ordered. Aziraphale got a strawberry ice-lolly and Crowley got a vanilla cone with chocolate sprinkles. The shop was a bit crowded on this warm day, and Crowley felt a bit uncomfortable with all of the people looking over his shoulder.

“Um, is there somewhere we can go that’s a bit quieter?”

Aziraphale’s face lit up. “I know just the spot.”

They made their way past the town square and the streets immediately began to thin. After about a half mile, just at the edge of the town, they came upon a park. It was nice enough, with green grass and tall trees evenly dispersed throughout. But Aziraphale seemed to have a specific destination in mind. They walked further into the park towards where the trees were a bit denser, and Crowley saw where he figured that were heading. There was a bandstand in the middle of an open area. It was the only structure in the park and there were benches lining the inside of it. There didn’t appear to be any other people around.

Aziraphale walked up the steps and settled onto on of the benches. Crowley deliberated for only a moment before sitting beside him.

“This place is nice.”

“Mhmm,” Aziraphale agreed. “When I was in high school, on the occasion when I would leave my house, I use to enjoy coming here to read. It’s peaceful.”

Crowley leaned back and looked around. The air smelled of the wildflowers that grew around them in bursts. This part of the park didn’t appear to be well groomed, the grass growing higher than normal and the bushes large and a bit unkempt. He liked it. It was nothing like the meticulously kept parks in London.

“Wish I had someplace like this to come when I was growing up. I mostly had car parks and the local chip joint.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound ideal.”

Crowley sighed. “No, it wasn’t. I mean, there _were_ nice places, but nowhere I was welcome.”

He suddenly felt a soft hand rest over his and jumped, unthinkingly pulling his hand away. He saw the worry and hurt that flashes across Aziraphale’s face and immediately regretted it.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have touched you without asking.”

“No, no, it’s fine! I just wasn’t expecting it.”

They lapsed into silence and Crowley internally kicked himself. What was wrong with him? The first gentle touch he’s felt in years and he reacts like he’s been electrocuted.

“Yes, sorry, won’t do it again.”

Crowley cringed. He wanted to say no, please, please touch me again. Touch me more. Tell me how good I am and how good you’ll be to me. Please. Instead, he just shrugged.

“Ok.”

They sat in silence, both finishing up their frozen treats. Crowley was just about to start up a conversation again when a voice stopped him.

“Hey there, Fell, haven’t seen you in a while.”

Crowley turned his head to see three young men approaching. They were all of average build, with perfectly kept hair, and close in age to them. He noticed Aziraphale tense up beside him and subconsciously did the same.

“Ah, hello James. Mark, Henry, good to see you all.”

“Yeah,” drawled the one Crowley assumed was James. “Heard you went off to some fancy college in California.”

“Oh, yes, I did. Just back in town for the summer.”

“You should come by the quarry some time. We still throw some pretty great parties there. Though, you never did come to any of them even in high school, did you?”

Aziraphale shifted. “Only the once. I don’t think I’ll be going again.”

James threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, that’s right. I remember that. You had to have your brother come pick you up because you were crying.”

Crowley felt a coil of fury twist in his gut. These people had made his angel cry? Aziraphale tightened his hands into fists and his voice went icy.

“Yes, that does tend to happen when you play a cruel joke on someone.”

“Oh, come on! We thought you could take a joke!”

“I can, when one is funny and not humiliating.”

Crowley stood up and the men focused on him for the first time. “I think you should leave.”

James smirked. “You’re that new farm hand, aren’t you? The hobo.”

Crowley’s mouth twisted into a sneer. “Yeah, I am. And you’re a right twat who isn’t wanted here. Leave.”

Rather than leave, they all took a step forward. “Don’t think we will. What? Are you going to make us?”

“Maybe I will.”

James snickered. “Three against one, I like my odds. Because we all know that little fairy won’t try to fight.”

Crowley heard Aziraphale gasp behind him and he bared his teeth. He didn’t care if he got his ass handed to him, he was going hurt them.

“Don’t fucking call him that.”

James raised his eyebrows. “Oh, I see. You’re a queer too, huh? That why he hired you? You his little faggot whore?”

Crowley sprung forward, but before he could get a shot in, another voice spoke out.

“And what’s going on here?”

Crowley turned and saw that two more men had come to stand beside the bandstand. His stomach clenched. He could maybe hold his own against these three squares, but five was too much. The man who had spoken was tall, taller than Crowley. His white blonde hair fell haphazardly over his face and his dark eyes appraised the situation. A cigarette hung from his lips. The man beside him was African American and of a similar build. He was considering his options when James and his group began to back up.

“H-hey, Hastur. Uh, nothing’s going on here.”

Hastur. Crowley remembered that name.

Hastur tilted his head. “You sure about that? What was that you just called him?”

James swallowed. “Nothing?”

“Nothing?” Hastur asked, blowing out some smoke. “I believe I heard the word faggot whore. You want to repeat that to me?”

“No, no, really we don’t want any trouble!”

And with that James and his group turned and ran away. Crowley stared after them, regretting he hadn’t been able to hit them at least once.

“You ok, Fell?”

Crowley turned back to see the blonde addressing Aziraphale. He still looked tense and uneasy, but he was also smiling politely.

“Yes, Hastur, thank you. Hello Ligur.”

“Hey,” the other nodded.

The dark eyes of Hastur turned to Crowley. “You were going to take on all three of them by yourself?”

“If I had to.”

Hastur smiled. “You’re stupid. I like you.”

Crowley wasn’t sure how he should take that. “Uh, thanks.”

“No problem. We were just passing by and heard what was going on. Thought we’d join in on the fun.”

“Er, I appreciate it, but do you mind me asking why? You didn’t have a dog in this fight.”

Hastur tilted his head to the side, and Crowley thought there was something odd about his movements. He seemed to be able to hold eerily still and he barely blinked.

“I don’t like bullies. Besides, people like us got to stay together, don’t we?”

Crowley frowned. He didn’t quite know what he meant by that, but he figured it was best to take it as a compliment. “Uh, yeah. Guess we do.”

Hastur smiled and nodded. “Right. I’ll be seeing you two around.”

Crowley thought that it sounded a bit like a threat. The two walked away and he watched them until they were nearing the edge of the park.

“Crowley?”

He turned back to see Aziraphale watching him. “Yeah?”

“Are you alright?”

Crowley looked at him as though he had grown a second head. “Am I alright? I should be asking you that! Those things they said to you, that was fucked up. Did they bully you in high school?”

Aziraphale shifted slightly on the bench. “A bit, yes. I assume you’re referring to that lovely tale we were referencing?”

Crowley nodded and went back to sit beside him. Aziraphale chewed his lip and looked steadily at his hands.

“It was during my second year of high school. As you know I didn’t have any friends, and I was quite lonely. So, one night, James and his friends invited me to go with them to the quarry. They said they wanted to be friends with me. I was naïve and a little bit desperate. So, I agreed. I got there just after eight when they said I should. Only, the party wasn’t what I thought it was going to be. There was a big banner hung up that said, ‘Invite a loser night’. There had been a competition to see who could get the most undesirable student to come. It turned out I was the only one stupid enough to show up.”

Crowley was practically vibrating with rage. “What the hell? Those fucking monsters!”

“Yes, quite. I ended up having to walk several miles to call home and have Gabriel pick me up. He obviously wasn’t pleased about it either, but he was already out of high school, so what could he do?”

“I would have gone back to that party and beat the shit out of everyone there!” Crowley said with a snarl.

Aziraphale chuckled lightly. “That’s very noble of you, dear. But you can’t fight the whole world just to protect me.”

“I would.”

Both his and Aziraphale’s eyes widened at the declaration. He hadn’t meant to say it, and yet he found it was true. He cleared his throat.

“Um, and what’s Hastur’s and Ligur’s deal?”

Aziraphale graciously accepted the change of topic. “Oh, Hastur’s history is long and complicated. His family moved here when he was twelve and he immediately established himself as someone the other students shouldn’t mess with. He was always the biggest kid and he proved he knew how to fight. But his reputation didn’t really begin until Ligur showed up.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow, and so Aziraphale continued.

“Our high school didn’t fully desegregate until fifty-eight. At that time, Ligur was fifteen and he suddenly became the only African America student in the whole school. As you can imagine, some people were not pleased.”

Aziraphale’s face shifted, his own fury evident in the set of his mouth. “As you said, monsters. I wasn’t at the high school yet, but I heard what happened. Everyone did. A few of the students dragged Ligur out into the trees after school. Hastur saw and followed them. And then he, well…”

Aziraphale glanced up at him and Crowley nodded for him to continue.

“He stabbed one student’s eye out and shattered another’s collar bone. It was quite brutal.”

“Those dick heads deserved it.”

“Oh, yes, obviously I agree! But unfortunately, the students’ parents didn’t. They tried to file charges with the police. For a moment it looked like Hastur might actually go to jail. But as you may have heard, his family has connections. His father made a call and the next day all charges were dropped. He and his sister are practically untouchable. And now, by association, so is Ligur. They’ve been inseparable ever since.”

Crowley chew over this information for a moment. “And are they, you know…”

A faint pink blush colored Aziraphale’s cheeks. “What- what do you mean?”

Crowley sighed. “Are they gay?”

Aziraphale swallowed. “Oh, well, I don’t know of course. But there were rumors. In high school and after. Would, um, would it change your opinion about them if they were?”

“What?”

“I mean, if they were gay, would you dislike them?”

Crowley looked into Aziraphale’s eyes. He was looking at him with a sort of searching intensity.

“No, not all. Would it change yours?”

“No!” Aziraphale cried. “No, not one bit. There’s… there’s nothing wrong with it. Love is love, after all.”

Crowley smiled slowly and nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. Love is love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hastur and Ligur are in love. That is all.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the delay. Dark Angels sort of took over my life for awhile. I mean it still has. But I love writing this story so regular updates should start back up again.

Aziraphale sat out on the porch with his glass of iced tea and rocked slowly back and forth. His eyes never left Crowley as he walked back and forth between the barn and the truck, each time carrying a heavy sack of potatoes. Aziraphale smiled to himself as he watched Crowley bend and lift, the muscles of his arms prominent in his sleeveless shirt. His hair was so bright today that it looked like it might burn him if he touched it. He was vaguely aware of Anathema coming to stand beside him.

“Nice day today, hm?”

Aziraphale nodded. “Mm, yes, it is.”

“Hardly any clouds.”

“Mhm,” he agreed, barely paying attention, his focus still on Crowley.

“Crowley is looking incredibly handsome today as well.”

He smiled. “Oh, yes, but he always looks-“

He froze as his eyes widened and he looked up at her. She was looking down at him with a smug smile.

“I, that’s not what I meant. I just, um…”

Anathema shook her head and patted him on the shoulder. “Hey, calm down. I don’t care who you have a crush on. I mean, I care, but not like that.”

Aziraphale blinked and looked away. “How long have you known?”

“What, that you liked men? Since I was thirteen and I heard the way you talked about James Dean. And I mean, I get it. You definitely have a type.”

She nodded towards Crowley, who had stopped beside the truck to take a drink of water. Aziraphale subconsciously licked his lips, imagining what it would feel like to be that canteen.

“Well, it doesn’t matter anyways, does it?”

Anathema frowned. “And why is that?”

“Well, because! Crowley isn’t gay. He’s not interested in me in that way, so there’s no point in even talking about it.”

“How do you know he isn’t? Have you asked him?”

Aziraphale looked at her like she had lost her mind. “Of course not! Who does that? You can’t just walk up to a man and say ‘So, I’ve only known you for a week and a half, but would you mind telling me if you have any interest in sleeping with me?’. Don’t be preposterous.”

Anathema rolled her eyes. “Well obviously you can’t be so blunt! But you could slip in hints, try to get him to come to tell you on his own.”

“And then lose the one friend I’ve made when he becomes uncomfortable around me? No, I think not. I’ll settle with watching him from afar.”

“Yeah, because that’s not creepy at all. You’re going to drive yourself crazy like this.”

Aziraphale huffed. “It’s a few months. Come the end of August I’ll go back to California and he’ll move on. We’ll likely never see each other again.”

“Tell me, brother, do you enjoy suffering? Because it really seems as though you do. Can you imagine what it would be like if you just let yourself be happy?”

“It’s not that simply for someone like me!” he snapped. “Stop being naïve, Anathema! Do you understand that in most parts of the world it is illegal for me to be with a man? For Gods sake, The American Psychiatric Association deems the way I am a psychological disorder!”

“But it’s not! There’s nothing wrong with you!”

“Of course, there’s not, I know that! But the rest of the world doesn’t. What sort of life could Crowley and I lead? We couldn’t marry, we couldn’t adopt children, we would have to be looking over our shoulders for the rest of our lives. And while I would be fine with doing that for love, I doubt Crowley, or many men for that matter, would. So, no. I won’t pursue something with Crowley. I will take the lovely gift I have been given of simply having him in my life and not complain.”

Anathema still looked troubled, but she didn’t push it. Aziraphale’s heart felt heavy. Though he had known all of those things, saying them out loud had made them all the more real. He couldn’t have the normal domestic life that people like his parents and Gabriel had. He would have to hide for the rest of his life.

He stood up. “I think I’ll go for a walk.”

Anathema frowned. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, no, I would like a moment alone.”

He made he way down the yard and towards the lane that would lead him past the fields. He couldn’t see Crowley anymore; he was probably inside the barn. That was alright. Looking at Crowley right now would just hurt. He hated the truth of the matter. He hated that no matter how much he stared and desired Crowley, he could never have him. He couldn’t court him or go on nice dates or have a little wedding at a chapel. Granted, he was getting way ahead of himself. He didn’t even know if Crowley liked men, let alone if he would like someone as bland and boring as himself.

Crowley looked like a movie star. If he were to ever be with someone, it would be another movie star. Someone sleek and cool and mysterious. Someone who could keep up with him and wasn’t set in their silly ways. He could see it now, Crowley arm and arm with some tall, dark hair, strong jawed person. He grimaced when he realized he was picturing someone who looked a lot like Gabriel. Perhaps if he looked like Gabriel he would have more of a chance.

The rumble of a truck drew him out of his thoughts. He had only made it about a half mile from the house. He turned and saw his fathers blue truck driving towards him, Crowley behind the wheel. He pulled to a stop beside him.

“Hey Aziraphale, where are you headed?”

“Oh, um, nowhere in particular. Just walking.”

Crowley smiled. “I’m driving these potatoes out to the mill for storage. Would you like to come with me?”

Aziraphale chewed his lip. He had wanted to be alone, but the prospect of driving in the car with Crowley was really quite thrilling.

“Yes, alright.”

He opened the door and climbed into the cab. Once they got going, with the windows down, it was really very nice.

“Are you ok?”

Aziraphale glanced over at Crowley, who was looking at him from the corner of his eyes.

“Yes, of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Crowley shrugged. “Don’t know. You looked a bit troubled. I saw you talking to Anathema.”

Aziraphale let out a breath and looked out the window. “It’s nothing. She just doesn’t know when to mind her own business and leave things be.”

Crowley tapped his thumb against the steering wheel. “So, I’m guessing you’d like for me to mind my own business as well?”

Aziraphale turned back to him with a gentle smile. “No dear, it’s fine. It’s just nothing for you to worry about.”

He nodded. “Kay.”

“This song is quite interesting. Who is it?”

Crowley grinned. “The Animals. The House of the Rising Sun. You’ve never heard them before?”

“I can’t say that I have. His voice is very unique.”

“Yeah, you can say that again.”

Aziraphale smiled back at him, grateful that he had allowed the change of subject. Crowley was so very considerate. More than anyone else had ever been to him.

They pulled up to the silo and both got out.

“You can just wait in the truck if you want while I do this. Don’t want you to dirty your clothes.”

Aziraphale scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Oh please, Crowley, I’m not helpless. I may not be as adept as you are at manual labor, but I did grow up on this farm. I want to help.”

Crowley looked unsure but nodded. Aziraphale moved around to the back of the truck and rolled up his sleeves to his elbow. He pulled the first large bag of potatoes off the bed and threw it easily over his shoulder before grabbing a second and hauling them both over to the open silo. He tossed the bags inside and dusted off his hands before turning back to the truck. He stopped when he saw Crowley. He was staring at him with his mouth hanging open and face looked incredibly flushed.

“My dear, are you alright?”

Crowley snapped his mouth shut and cleared his throat, looking away and picking up his own bag of potatoes. “Um, yeah, just fine. Just, didn’t realize you were that strong.”

Aziraphale preened and wiggled his shoulders at the compliment. “Oh, well, yes. Most people underestimate me.”

Crowley smirked as he threw a bag over his shoulder. “I’ll be sure not to do that.”

They finished the task quickly together, much more quickly than if Crowley had been doing it on his own. Once the truck was empty, Crowley climbed into the truck bed and sat with his back to the cab. Aziraphale joined him. It was incredibly peaceful out here, with nothing but the wind and the crickets to disturb the stillness of the air. Aziraphale breathed in deeply and closed his eyes.

“One time when I was younger, maybe twelve or thirteen, I got into an argument with my father. I don’t remember what it was about, probably something ridiculous. But I got so upset that I ran straight out of the house and ran all the way here. I thought I would stay here until I calmed down, but then it got dark. I was too afraid to walk all the way back on my own in the dark, so I climbed into silo to sleep out the night. I walked back in the morning, and boy were my parents mad. They had apparently been out searching for me all night. They thought I had perhaps fallen in the river or gotten snatched up by a drifter.”

Crowley chuckled. “Well you better watch out, because you have a drifter fairly close to you right now.”

Aziraphale smirked. “Oh, I’m not too worried about that. I think I could take him if he tried anything shifty.”

Crowley gasped in mock offence. “Are you doubting my fighting capabilities?”

“No, but as the drifter already stated, I’m quite strong. I think I could pin him down and hold him there until I wanted otherwise.”

He heard Crowley inhale sharply and felt him still beside him. Aziraphale realized what he had said and blushed furiously. Oh dear, that had indeed sounded a bit risqué. He swallowed and tried to laugh it off. 

“But well, you never know. The drifter could have some tricks up his sleeves.”

He bit his lip and glanced at Crowley. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking behind those sunglasses, but he could tell her was staring at him. When he spoke, his voice was quiet.

“Yeah, maybe he does.”

They stared at each other for several seconds before Aziraphale broke eye contact and looked away with a cough.

“Right, well, we should be getting back.”

Crowley immediately jumped up. “Yeah, of course. I, um, still have work to do before dinner.”

He climbed out of the bed and Aziraphale began to shimmy his way out before he noticed Crowley holding his hand out to help him. He took it with only a slight blush and climbed down.

“Thank you, dear.”

Crowley rubbed the back of his neck. “Eh, no problem.”

They drove back to the house in silence, just the radio cutting the quiet.

“Well, here you are,” Crowley said as he shut off the truck in front of the house. “I’m sure you have a whole trunk full of books to be reading.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “You make me sound so dull and lazy. All I do is read all day while you work so hard.”

Crowley grinned and shook his head. “Nah, it’s how it should be. I like you soft and pampered. Just seems right.”

Aziraphale bit his lip. “You say the strangest things sometimes, did you know?”

A deep blush spread over Crowley’s face and down his neck. Aziraphale wondered if he pulled the collar of his shirt down if it would travel to his chest. He wondered what Crowley would do if he ran his tongue from sternum to throat. Crowley reached up to rub the back of his neck.

“Er, sorry about that. I’ll stop.”

“No!” Aziraphale said too quickly. “No, please don’t. You’re very _you,_ and I like that. I would never want to change that. I like you just the way you are.”

Aziraphale noticed Crowley’s grip on the steering wheel had tightened considerably, enough that his knuckles had begun to turn white. The realization that he was the one making Crowley uncomfortable crashed over him.

“Oh dear, I’m terribly sorry. I- I shouldn’t… I’ll go.”

Before Crowley could say anything Aziraphale jumped out of the truck and practically ran up to the house. He didn’t look back at Crowley as he made his way inside.

“Are you alright dear?” his mother asked as he rushed past her in the kitchen.

He gave her a forced smile. “Oh, oh yes. Just tickety-boo! I’m just feeling a bit tired and was going to go rest before supper.”

His mother gave him a strange look but nodded. “Alright dear. I’ll call you down when I need your help setting the table.”

“Yes, perfect.”

Aziraphale ran up the stairs before she could ask him any more questions. Once he was safe in his room he flopped down on the bed. Why was he like this? Why did he have to make people uncomfortable? Especially Crowley. That was the last thing he wanted, and yet it was clearly the case. Crowley had just been trying to give him a compliment and he had made it all weird. He rubbed a hand over his face. He was such a disaster. Crowley was probably wishing he had had the luck to meet anyone else besides him at this point.

* * *

Crowley knew he should get back to work before the day was over, but currently he was having a bit of a breakdown inside one of the barn stalls. Why had he said that to Aziraphale? It had probably sounded so _strange_. No, not probably, it definitely had. Aziraphale had practically sprinted away from the truck. Friends didn’t say those sorts of things to each other. And Aziraphale was just so damn kind that he had rushed to reassure him. He truly didn’t deserve that angel.

And then back at the silo he had almost lost it when he had watched Aziraphale carry those heavy sacks without breaking a sweat. He was _strong_. Far stronger than he had ever imagined or dreamed. And now new images and dreams were filling his head about what Aziraphale could possibly do with all that strength. What he could do to him.

He imagined Aziraphale throwing him over his shoulder like he had that sack. Imagined him throwing him into a bale of hay and climbing atop him. Holding him down by the wrists, not that he would struggle against him. No, definitely not. He imaged Aziraphale pressing his lips to his neck and working his way down to his chest. How firm and solid he would be on top of him. He moaned and pressed the palm of his hand to his growing erection. God, he wanted him so badly.

Why did it have to be like this? Was it really so wrong for him to have these sorts of feelings about another man? And if so, why? Ultimately it had been that question exactly that had drove him away from religion to begin with. Why would he worship a God that cursed him for his love? If God truly made no mistakes, why would they make it a mistake for him to be who he was? No, he refused to believe that. Even if he could never have Aziraphale, someday he hoped he could find his little bit of paradise somewhere. A place where he could be himself and find someone who loved him as he was. Where they could be together and not have to hide. But that was really just a dream.

He bit his lip hard and closed his eyes. Because sometimes, when Aziraphale looked at him like he really mattered, he thought maybe it was possible after all. And that was the dangerous part of this. The hope. It twisted and grew and built within Crowley the more he was around Aziraphale. He was better off being a realist. And yet… those blue eyes. He sighed and thunked his head back against the stall door. Those blue eyes would be the death of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These poor, pining boys.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it wrong for me to have a favorite between my fics? Because despite this fic having the least amount of engagement of the ones I'm writing, I think this one is my favorite. This is like my comfort fic.

Aziraphale was having a bit of an anxiety attack. He knew there wasn’t any reason to be panicking, and yet he couldn’t stop his silly heart from fluttering away in his chest. It was just an annual town dance. So what if he wanted to invite Crowley to it? Lots of people went to the dance as friends and nobody thought anything of it. The problem lied in the fact that he didn’t want to go with Crowley as just a friend. He wanted to hold his hand and dance with him and do everything that couples did at dances. But that was obviously impossible. Not only would Crowley not want to have that sort of relationship with him, but the townspeople would absolutely lose their minds. No, he couldn’t have that.

But there was no reason he and Crowley couldn’t go together and still have a grand time. Crowley loved music. It would be wonderful to see Crowley letting go and just having fun. Aziraphale took a deep breath and nodded to himself in the mirror. Yes, he could do this. He marched down the stairs and out the front door. Crowley should be back by now. His father was already home, so Crowley had to be around here somewhere. The front lawn was empty, but as he made his way towards the barn, he heard the sound of running water. Curious, he walked around the back of the barn. The sight before him made him stop in his tracks.

Crowley was standing beside his fathers’ truck with the hose in one hand and a cloth in the other. His shirt was discarded over a post, leaving his back and chest open the public. Red waves fell in damp tresses around his face, the spray from the hose making his whole body glisten. Crowley hadn’t noticed him and was currently scrubbing dirt off the door of the truck.

Aziraphale swallowed the saliva that had accumulated in his mouth. God, Crowley was beautiful. Surely, he had to know what looking like that did to other people. Was he being purposely tempting? Aziraphale knew he wasn’t, but that didn’t stop the thought. What he would give to walk up to him right now, to smooth his hands over his damp back and press hot kisses to the open expanse of his neck. He imagined what it would feel like for Crowley to lean back into him, to hear him moan his name. He shook his head vigorously. That was not what he was here for. He was here to invite Crowley out as a friend. He cleared his throat as he approached.

Crowley turned, and when he saw him, his whole face lit up. Aziraphale ignored the way that made his stomach twist.

“Hey Aziraphale, what’s up?”

“Oh, uh, nothings up. I was just, um, well, I wanted to ask you something.”

A hint of concern crossed Crowley’s face as he shut off the hose. “Alright, shoot.”

Aziraphale twisted his hands nervously in front of him. “Well, I wasn’t sure if you’ve heard, but there’s going to be a bit of a shindig in town tomorrow night. Every year the town puts together a dance for people to come to. There’s music, the type you like, and food and drinks.”

Crowley tilted his head. “No, I hadn’t heard about that.”

“Oh, well, it can be quite a good time. I haven’t gone in a few years, but I thought since you’ve never been it might be fun to go together? You know, so that we aren’t there alone.”

Crowley’s eyebrows slid up his forehead and a smile once again lit up his face. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

Aziraphale’s heart leapt. “Really?”

Crowley shrugged and grabbed his shirt from off the post. “Yeah, why not. I’ve never been to something like that, but I should be alright if I have you with me.”

Aziraphale beamed. “Yes, that’s what I was thinking. And well, I normally don’t go because it can be a bit of a bore to go alone.”

Crowley smirked as he pushed his hair out of his face. “Well you won’t be alone this time, will you?”

It took everything in him to not bite his lip and wiggle with pleasure. “No, I don’t suppose I will. It starts at eight. My parents won’t be going so we could use the truck if you like.”

“Sounds great. What should I wear?”

“Oh, just your casual clothes should be fine. It’s not a fancy thing. Most of the dancing takes place out in the square and it kicks up quite a bit of dust. I might not even wear my waistcoat.”

Crowley gasped and placed his hand over his heart. “No waistcoat? You’ll be practically naked!”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes and swatted at him. “Oh, stop that. I don’t _always_ dress up.”

“You’re right, silly me. Only three hundred and sixty-three days per year.”

He stuck his nose up and sniffed. “I _have_ standards.”

“Don’t I know it.”

They stood there for a moment, smiling at each other, before Aziraphale cleared his throat. “Right. So, tomorrow at eight. I’ll meet you out here on the lawn.”

“Yep. Don’t worry, I’ll be ready.”

Aziraphale grinned. “You better be.”

Crowley winked at him. “I wouldn’t disappoint you.”

He felt his face heating up and looked away. “No, I don’t suppose you would.”

The next night Aziraphale stood in front of his mirror, fixing his bowtie for the tenth time. It wasn’t getting any straighter, much like himself, and yet he needed something to do with his hands to stop himself from hyperventilating. This was fine. There was no difference between him and Crowley spending time here and in public. They were friends. This was what friends did. Crowley had even seemed excited to go, so why was he making such a big deal out of this. He turned at the sound of his door opening to see Anathema flouncing in. He let out a sigh of relief. He needed a distraction.

She flopped onto the bed. “Hey, you’re going to the town dance tonight right?”

“Yes, why do you ask?”

“Could you give me a ride there? I won’t need one back. I’m meeting up with Newt and Eric, and Newt has a car so he can give me a ride back.”

Aziraphale frowned. “Eric?”

“Yeah, Eric Lezard. You know, Ligur’s brother.”

“Oh, yes, that’s right.”

“Yeah, he’s in my class and we’ve been hanging out.”

Aziraphale turned back to his bowtie. “How lovely. And yes, we shouldn’t have any problem taking you with us.”

In the reflection of the mirror he saw a smile spread across Anathema’s face. “Oh, but I wouldn’t want to disrupt anything, if you and Crowley had other plans.”

He rolled his eyes. “There are no other plans. Crowley and I are going to the dance and that’s it. Despite your wicked mind, there are no other nefarious plans.”

She hummed. “Are you sure Crowley knows that?”

He shot her a warning look. “Anathema…”

She held up he hands in surrender. “Ok, ok, I get it. Sorry. Just, don’t count anything out.” She climbed off the bed. “I’m going to finish getting ready.”

“We’re leaving in fifteen minutes!” he called after her. “Don’t be late or else we will leave you!”

“No you won’t!” she called back.

Aziraphale dropped onto the bed and stared at his hands. What was he doing? Honestly, what did he expect to happen? That Crowley would suddenly start seeing him in a different light just because they were out together? That he would ask him to dance? That he would want him? He shook his head. He was being absolutely ridiculous.

But Anathema’s words kept coming back to him. Did she see something I couldn’t? Why was she so certain that Crowley felt the same back? He bit his lip and thought about the way Crowley had lit up when he saw him. How he always seemed genuinely happy to talk to him. It didn’t really make sense. Crowley was so beautiful and interesting. And he was… well, he was himself. Was it possible for that to be enough?

Before he could allow himself to get too caught up in those thoughts he stood and made his way downstairs. His mother was making a cup of tea in the kitchen and lit up when she saw him.

“Oh, you look wonderful dear.”

He smiled. “I don’t look much different from normal.”

He had held true to the sentiment of not wearing a waistcoat. Instead he wore a simple baby blue button up with a yellow polka dot bowtie and tan pants. His mother waved her hand.

“Oh, you always look lovely, but you seem extra radiant tonight. I’m sure Crowley will agree with me.”

Aziraphale felt heat spread up his face. “W-what do you mean? Why would I care how Crowley thinks I look?”

She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head. “I don’t know dear, why would you?”

They stared at each other for several seconds before Aziraphale cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I shouldn’t be out too late. Midnight at the latest.”

“Darling, you’re a grown man. You two can stay out as late as you please.”

Aziraphale knew that if he didn’t get out of there now his blush was going to become permanent.

“Right, thank you mother, see you later!”

He rushed out the front door and onto the lawn. The light from the house lit up the space, and Aziraphale was able to see Crowley’s lean figure already lounging against the truck. A cigarette hung from his lips, and as Aziraphale watched, he took a drag and tilted his head back to blow it out. Oh, Aziraphale did like when he did that. At the sound of his approaching footsteps, Crowley looked up. Aziraphale saw that he had combed his hair back into a neat swoop. He was wearing his best black t-shirt and jeans with that snake belt buckle Aziraphale had admired. He looked unbearably sexy.

“Hey there Aziraphale, you ready?”

“Oh, yes, quite. We just need to wait for Anathema. I told her we would give her a ride into town.”

He was sure it was his imagination that saw disappointment flash across his face. “Oh, she’s coming with?”

“Well, yes, but just until we get there. Then she’ll be going off with her own friends and they’ll give her a lift back.”

He didn’t know why he was trying so hard to reassure Crowley. Surely, he didn’t care whether it was just the two of them or not. But Crowley did seem to relax at his words.

“Right, cool, no problem.” His golden eyes moved down Aziraphale’s figure and he tried his best not to shiver. “You look great tonight.”

“Oh,” he beamed and wiggled a bit. “You look lovely tonight as well. Very movie star chic.”

Crowley threw his head back and laughed. “Haven’t heard that one before. But thanks. Glad to know someone appreciates the work I put into it.”

“Oh, I very much do.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow, but before he could respond the front door slammed open and Anathema came running towards them.

“Alright, I’m ready!”

Aziraphale climbed into the passenger side while Anathema climbed into the back. Crowley settled himself in the driver seat and switched on the radio, which was blasting out some Elvis songs. Aziraphale smiled and hummed along as they began to drive. The night was pitch black, nothing to light the road but the headlights and the moon. Inside the cab was dark as well, but Aziraphale was able to make out Crowley’s profile when he glanced at him every few minutes. Once they reached the town, he was able to see much better. They had to park a block away from the main square, due to the road being blocked off, but Aziraphale didn’t mind. He liked walking beside Crowley. The sound of music reach Aziraphale’s ears first, followed by the bright lights.

He had been fifteen the last time he had come to this. His parents had forced him to go with Gabriel, claiming he needed to get out of the house more. That night had been miserable. Gabriel had left him to go with his own friends and Aziraphale had been left to stand on the edge of the dance floor alone. Nobody had even acknowledged his existence, let alone asked him to dance. It had been horribly lonely and humiliating. He hoped tonight would be different.

“I think I see Newt and Eric,” Anathema said. “I’ll see you two later!”

She raced away into the thickening crowd.

“So, what do you want to do first?” Crowley asked.

Aziraphale looked around, the packed space making his head spin a bit. He didn’t normally like crowd. “Oh, well, they usually have a refreshment table.”

Crowley smirked. “Any chance of there being something in the alcoholic variety?”

Aziraphale smiled apologetically. “I’m afraid not dear. This is a family friendly event.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Fine, plain punch it is.”

They found the drinks table and Crowley got them both a cup of bright red liquid claiming to be strawberry lemonade. Once they had their drinks they stood at the edge of the square and looked around. People had already gathered in the middle of the square to dance along to some terribly modern song that Aziraphale had never heard before. There were a few booths set up along the outside with games and prizes.

“Now what? Do you like to dance?” Crowley questioned.

“Oh, goodness no! I’m no good at dancing.”

Crowley gave him a sly look. “I doubt that. I bet you can really get down and groove when the mood hits you.”

Aziraphale smiled back. “You are incorrect. Besides, I certainly wouldn’t dance in public.”

“Hmm,” Crowley looked away. “Alright, well how about a game?”

He motioned to the bobbing for apples booth. Aziraphale grimaced. “I don’t want to get my face all wet.”

Crowley winked. “Luckily for you, I don’t mind getting my face wet in the least.”

Aziraphale was grateful that Crowley turned away at that to pull him towards the booth and didn’t notice the blush creeping up his cheeks. His mind was really running away from him. Once they reached the booth Crowley pulled out a dollar bill and handed it to the teenaged girl who was running it.

“One dollar gets you four tries,” she said.

“And what do I get if I get the apple on the first try?”

She pointed to a row of prizes. “You can choose any of these.”

Crowley examined the row and then nodded. He smirked at Aziraphale over his shoulder. “I got this.”

Aziraphale had to suppress his smile. “I’m sure you do dear.”

Crowley got down on his knees beside the large tub and placed his hands behind his back. He chewed his lip as he eyed each of the apples.

“Ok, go!” the girl cried.

Crowley dove forward so hard that his entire head and neck submerged beneath the water. Aziraphale’s hands fluttered as he fought the urge to grab Crowley back and out of the water. But he needn’t worry. A second later Crowley popped up, a shiny red apple between his lips. A giggle burst out of Aziraphale.

“Oh, you’re positively ridiculous.”

Crowley spit the apple into his hand and held it up victoriously. “I told you I could do.”

“Yes,” Aziraphale laughed. “That you did.”

Crowley presented the apple to the girl, whose nametag said Eve, and who was staring at him like he was a bit mad. She took the apple and dropped it into a sack off to the side.

“Yeah, go ahead and pick your prize.”

It took him only a second the snatch up his reward. He turned back to Aziraphale presented it to him. Aziraphale took it and examined it. It was a cloth angel, probably handmade.

He furrowed his brow. “Why did you choose this? I thought you weren’t religious.”

Crowley shrugged. “I’m not. It’s for you. I thought it looked like you.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened. The angel did have blue eyes and blonde curls. “O-oh. Well thank you my dear. That’s very kind of you!”

Crowley’s lip curled and he looked away. “Nah, not kind. Just, you know, don’t have any use for any of that other junk. Thought you would like it.”

He smiled gently, his heart fluttering. “I do. I love it.”

Crowley looked back at him, his eyes softening. “Good. Then it’s worth it.”

Aziraphale was sure he wasn’t imagining the static energy running between them. It was almost like a second presence. It made him want to lean forward, to be closer to those golden eyes. Those eyes that were now darting around Aziraphale’s face. But then someone bumped hard into Aziraphale’s back and he stumbled forward, Crowley catching him at the last second.

“Hey, watch it asshole!” Crowley shouted at the rowdy teens who ignored him. “Are you ok?”

Aziraphale straightened his shirt. “Yes, yes, I’m fine. They’re just teenager, let it go.”

Crowley scowled but dropped it. “Fine.”

Aziraphale realized Crowley’s hands were still on his shoulders and swallowed. “Um, anything you wanted to do dear?”

“Nah, not really.” He glanced down at Aziraphale and smirked. “Although, you know, I could always go for a funnel cake.”

“Oh!” Aziraphale lit up. “Yes! Yes, that sounds scrumptious.”

Aziraphale attempted to pay for his own cake, but Crowley shoved his money back into his hand.

“Nope, I got this, _angel_.”

Aziraphale scoffed and rolled his eyes, but secretly felt thrilled at the nickname. Once they had their treats, they went back to the dance floor and settled down at one of the tables along the border.

“So,” Crowley said once he had chewed his bite. “Is this more fun than the last time you came?”

“Oh yes, loads more fun. You’re much better company than, well, nobody.”

Crowley cackled. “What a ringing endorsement.”

Aziraphale smiled smugly. “You know what I mean. I’m very happy to be here with you.”

“Mmm, so am I.”

“So, when you said you had never been to this sort of thing before, what did you mean?”

Crowley waved a hand around. “I mean just that. Never been to a dance before.”

“Never? Not when you were young? Or in your travels? You were never invited by a young woman?”

Crowley’s face scrunched up. “Nope. Probably wouldn’t have gone if I had been.”

“Why not?”

“I wouldn’t come to this with someone I didn’t like.”

Aziraphale stared at him as those words settled in. Did that mean that Crowley liked him? If it did, in what way? Crowley didn’t seem to register the weight of his words and instead held out the second half of his funnel cake.

“Here, do you want this?”

“Oh, aren’t you going to finish it?”

“No, you have it, I’m full.”

Aziraphale grinned bashfully and took the treat. Crowley smiled as he did, his eyes watching the way Aziraphale bit into it and savored the taste on his tongue.

“Oh, this really is a rather good funnel cake.”

Crowley nodded, though his eyes looked a bit distant. “Yep, perfect.”

The song changed then to something a bit more upbeat and Crowley’s face lit up. “This is great song.”

For one mad moment Aziraphale considered asking him to dance. He pictured himself taking his hand and leading him out to the dance floor. In his mind, nobody else noticed them. It was just him and Crowley, spinning together, lost in each other’s eyes. It would be such fun and Crowley would laugh and dip him, and they wouldn’t have any worries. Another sudden presence at their table drew him out of his fantasy. A young woman, no older than nineteen, stood beside them, looking down at Crowley.

“Hey there, would you like to dance?”

Crowley looked around, a bit baffled, as though he thought she were talking to somebody besides him. “Who? Me?”

She giggled, brushing blonde hair behind her ear. “Yes you. My name’s Jean. I saw you from across the square.”

Aziraphale felt a pit grow in his stomach. He had known something like this would happen, he had just hoped it wouldn’t happen so soon. Of course young women were interested in Crowley. He was beautiful and interesting and suave. Everything Aziraphale wasn’t.

“Uh, no, thanks, I’m here with a friend.” He nodded to Aziraphale.

Aziraphale forced a smile on his face. “No, no, it’s fine! Go on, dance. You did say you liked this song.”

Crowley frowned. “Really, it’s fine. I don’t—”

“I insist!” Aziraphale said a bit louder than was necessary. He wouldn’t be the reason Crowley didn’t enjoy himself. He wouldn’t stand in his way if he wanted to have a normal life with a normal girl like Jean.

Crowley stared at him, looking taken aback. “Um, alright, sure. I guess one dance would be fine.”

He stood and Jean took his hand to lead him out to the dance floor. Crowley glanced back at him once more, a frown still on his face. Aziraphale kept his forced smile until he was sure that Crowley was distracted, then deflated. What on Earth was he doing? What had he expected? Crowley would never be interested in him. He was getting his hopes up or nothing but heartache. He watched Crowley as he twisted his hips and moved around the floor, Jean’s hands in his. This was where he belonged. He was being selfish to try and hold onto him. Selfish and stupid. He had told Anathema off for trying to push them together, and now here he was doing the same. His hands gripped the cloth angel in his lap, a small, sad smile pulling at his lips. This was all he would ever be able to have, and he needed to learn to be ok with that.

* * *

Once the song ended, Crowley gave Jean a smile. “Thanks for that, it was fun.”

She lit up. “It was! Hey, do you want to go get a drink with me?”

Crowley tried not to grimace. He had known it would lead to this, which was why he had tried turning her down initially. He had no interest in leaving with her.

“Thanks, but I do have to get back to my friend.”

She shrugged. “That’s fine. I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah, sure.”

He turned away from her and made his way off the dance floor. Honestly, he felt a bit hurt and confused by Aziraphale. He had thought they were having a good time, and yet he had pushed him away at the first opportunity. He didn’t understand. Perhaps he had been reading the signs all wrong.

He got to the edge of the dance floor and stopped. For a moment he thought he had gotten turned around, but no. That was definitely the table he and Aziraphale had been sitting at. The wrappers from their funnel cake were right there. The only thing that was missing was Aziraphale. Crowley looked around, hoping he had just gone to get another drink. But he didn’t see him anywhere. Aziraphale was gone.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, I told you I would update quickly!

Crowley didn’t understand. He had searched around the entire area for fifteen minutes and couldn’t find Aziraphale anywhere. Had Aziraphale gone off with some other friends and left him alone? That didn’t make any sense. Aziraphale had told him he didn’t have any friends here. And why would he just leave him? They had been having such a good time. Crowley racked his brain, trying to figure out what he had done wrong to make Aziraphale push him away and then abandon him.

He pushed his way roughly out of the crowd and made his way back to the truck. If Aziraphale had gotten a ride home Crowley could go back to the farm and check. If he wasn’t there, Crowley would just come back and keep looking. He wasn’t about to abandon Aziraphale. The truck rattled to life and he pulled onto the road. Even though he tried not to think about it or let it affect him, Crowley was hurt.

He had obviously read the signals wrong. If Aziraphale were interested in him he wouldn’t have pushed him off on that girl. His heart clenched in his chest, tears prickling the backs of his eyes. He should be used to this disappointment by now, and yet here he was. Perhaps he was a masochist. There was no other reason for him to keep doing this to himself. He slammed his hands on the steering wheel.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid! You’re so fucking stupid!” His shouts echoed in the small cab. “He doesn’t like you like that. Get it out of your stupid fucking head! He’s an angel, and angels don’t go for homeless trash like you!”

The truck raced down the dirt path, the headlights illuminating the road in front of him. A tear fell onto his cheek and he angrily brushed it away. He was not going to cry like a damn baby. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that Aziraphale didn’t care about him like he cared about him. It didn’t matter if Aziraphale—

“Aziraphale!”

Crowley hit the brakes as he drove past a person walking along the side of the road. He would recognize those white blonde curls anywhere. Once he came to a stop, he threw open the truck door and leapt out. Aziraphale had stopped about forty feet back, the moonlight illuminating his hair.

“Aziraphale! What the fuck?”

“Crowley?” Aziraphale asked. “What are you doing?”

“What the hell do you mean, what am I doing? What are _you_ doing? I looked everywhere for you and I couldn’t find you! I thought… well I didn’t know what to think. Why did you leave?” He asked the last part quietly.

Aziraphale finally reached him and Crowley could see his face. He looked confused.

“Well, it was just that you looked like you were having fun with Jean and I didn’t want to bother you. I thought it would be best to leave you to it and make my own way home.”

Crowley stared at him with his mouth hanging partially open. “What are you talking about?”

Now Aziraphale looked a bit irritated. “I feel as though I’ve made myself rather clear.”

“No, no you haven’t made anything clear! I don’t understand.”

Aziraphale huffed. “You wanted to dance with Jean so—”

“No! No, I didn’t want to dance with her. _You_ wanted me to dance with her. I tried to tell her no, but you pushed me into it and I don’t understand. You invited me to go to that thing with you. I thought that meant, you know, actually spending time together. But look, you don’t have to make excuses. If you didn’t want to be with me there anymore you could have just said, I would have understood. But just leaving like that, that wasn’t ok! I didn’t know where you’d gone. I didn’t know if you were ok. I was going back to the farm to look for you.”

Aziraphale blinked several times, his confusion clearing into shock. “You… you didn’t want to dance with Jean?”

“No!”

They stood on that dark dirt road, only the moon and the taillights shedding an eerie glow on them and stared at each other. Crowley was breathing hard and he was sure he looked a bit mad, his hands on his hips and his eyes wide. Aziraphale licked his lips and swallowed, looking down.

“I’m sorry Crowley. I didn’t mean to frighten you. It’s just… I’m used to being a burden. People always find someone else more fun to hang out with and I get left behind. Nobody has ever wanted to dance with me before.”

Crowley dropped his hands and felt all the anger and hurt slip out of him. He sighed deeply. “Oh, angel. Aziraphale, listen to me.” He stepped forward and took his hand. “Are you listening?”

He nodded.

“You are never a burden to me. I’m not going to leave you to hangout with someone more fun because for me there isn’t anyone more fun. You aren’t my second choice.”

Aziraphale bit his lip, and in the dim light Crowley thought he saw the glimmer of tears on his lashes.

“Oh.”

Crowley let out a broken laugh. “Oh? Is that all you can say?”

Aziraphale gave him a small smile. “I’ve never met anyone like you before Crowley. Never someone so kind.”

“Hey, stop that. I’m not being kind. I’m being truthful. And anyone who has ever told you differently is a wanker and doesn’t deserve you. You’re too good for the whole lot of them. And I know I might not be enough—”

“You are!” Aziraphale said it with such conviction that Crowley stopped with his mouth hanging open.

“You are enough Crowley. More than enough. You’re perfect.”

Crowley smiled, and then realized he was still holding Aziraphale’s hand. He smirked.

“You know, it’s only a little after ten. The night doesn’t have to be over just yet.”

Aziraphale tilted his head. “It doesn’t?”

“Nope. Come on.”

He ran back to the idling truck, dragging Aziraphale along with him.

Aziraphale laughed. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

They climbed in and Crowley took off down the road. They were both silent as they went. There was something in the air between them, something fragile and delicate and quiet, and Crowley was sure that Aziraphale felt it too. He also felt that if he were to say anything right now, it would break and crumble into a million pieces. No, for once he would keep his big mouth out of it.

He eventually pulled off the main road and onto a much smaller one. Aziraphale gave him a questioning look as he realized where they were going. Crowley just smiled and kept going. Eventually he came to a stop in the field beside the silo.

“Crowley, what are we doing here? I’m not sure about you, but stacking bags of potatoes isn’t the height of a fun for me.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “We aren’t here to work.”

He pulled out a cassette from the truck door and slid it into the radio. The song he was looking for immediately began to blast from the speakers and Crowley threw open his door and leapt out.

“Come on angel!”

Aziraphale laughed. “Crowley, what are you doing?

“Come on!” Crowley repeated as he went to stand in the light of the headlights.

Aziraphale climbed out and walked over to him. Crowley grinned and immediately began to twist and move to the beat of the music. Aziraphale stared at with a mixture of confusion and amusement.

“Crowley, what on Earth is this song?

“Wooly Bully!” Crowley said as he did a little spin, letting his hips move him. “Don’t tell me you haven’t heard Wooly Bully!”

Aziraphale covered his mouth the hide his laugh. “I can’t say that I have. But I still don’t understand what we’re doing out here.”

“Dancing! You said you don’t like dancing in public, well this isn’t public!”

He didn’t wait for him to respond as he took his hands and began to move Aziraphale along to the beat. Aziraphale laughed freely now, letting his arms be waved around at will.

“There you go! You’re getting it! Just move.”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale cried in between his laughter. “I’m not doing much of the moving. You’re doing it all for me!”

“Fine!” Crowley let Aziraphale go but kept jumping and dancing around him. “Then move! Show me what you got angel!”

Aziraphale gave him a sly smile and began to swivel his hips back and forth while moving his fists up and down. It was fairly simple, but Crowley wasn’t complaining. Baby steps, he supposed.

“Whoo!” he cheered. “That’s it! Look at you go!”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes but he still wore a wide smile. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossibly charming.”

“Well, yes, that too.”

Crowley danced in circles around him, bouncing from foot to foot and grinning widely. As Crowley moved to dance behind Aziraphale, the angel peaked over his shoulder at him and gave him a coy smile. Crowley’s stomach swooped and he had to look away to stop himself from jumping forward and kissing him right on the spot.

The song finally came to a stop and Crowley stilled, smiling widely and taking deep breaths. “Well? Not as bad as you thought it would be, is it?”

Aziraphale shook his head. “No, it was actually quite fun. You’re an excellent dancer.”

Crowley felt a blush creep up his neck and turned away. “Yeah, well, you’re not too shabby yourself.”

He walked back to the truck and ejected the tape, letting the regular FM radio play. Crowley didn’t wait to see if Aziraphale was joining him as he climbed into the bed of the truck, which thankfully was lined with empty burlap potato sacks. He knew he would come. Sure enough, a moment later the truck swayed as Aziraphale climbed up and settled down beside him. Neither of them said a word as they stared up at the endless expanse of stars. Out here Crowley could see every single one of them.

“I never got this while I was in London.”

“Hmm?” Aziraphale turned his face towards him. “Got what?”

“This.” Crowley waved his hand out in front of him. “You can’t see these stars in London. Too many lights in the city.”

“Ah, yes, San Francisco is much the same. When I first moved there everything felt off. Do you know much about astrology?”

“Yeah, a bit. When I was twelve my dad got me a big book of astronomy. I used to read it every night under the covers in my room until my mum would come in and shout at me to go to bed.”

Aziraphale was silent for a long moment. “You don’t talk about your parents much.”

He swallowed, that familiar pit in his stomach that grew every time he thought of his family twisting uncomfortably.

“Yeah, not much to tell really.”

Aziraphale shifted so that he was lying on his side and facing him. “Do you miss them?”

Crowley bit his lip. He decided that if there was anybody in the world he could be honest with, it was Aziraphale. “Sometimes. Sometimes at night when I think about them and the good things about them.”

“But?”

He let out a breath. “But then I remember all the bad. I remember that I wasn’t good enough for them. I remember that they didn’t want me as I am and threw me out like I was nothing. I’m their child, and yet when I made it clear that I wasn’t their perfect ideal for a son they didn’t even blink when throwing me away. When they found me in bed with another boy, someone who I thought loved me, there wasn’t even a conversation. I came home to discover they had changed all the locks.”

“Oh, Crowley.” Aziraphale sounded like he was on the verge of tears. “How old were you?”

“Seventeen. I had to move around, jumping from sofa to sofa and working odd jobs. I tried a few times to talk to my parents but they both acted like I didn’t exist. I became nothing to them.”

Aziraphale’s hand slid into his and gripped him tightly. “Crowley, that isn’t family. Family doesn’t do that. Family loves you unconditionally.”

“Would yours? If they found something out about you that they hated?”

“You mean if they found out I was gay?”

Crowley sucked in a breath. Even though he had just admitted as much to him, hearing Aziraphale confirm it back made his heart rate pick up.

“Yeah, that. Would they accept you?”

Aziraphale was quiet for several seconds. “I suspect my mother and Anathema already know, and they’re fine with it. My father and Gabriel on the other hand… I don’t know. I would like to hope so, but maybe not. My father is a very old-fashioned man. He doesn’t like what he doesn’t understand, and Gabriel is much the same.”

Crowley nodded. “Yeah, I figured that.”

They didn’t say anything for a long time, just laid there with nothing but the radio to keep the silence from overwhelming them. Crowley was aware that something had shifted just now. They had both come out to each other. Even if they had both suspected it, confirming it changed things. It changed them. Crowley felt closer to him, to have this commonality when they were so different in every other way. Like he finally had someone who understood, at least on some level. He desperately wanted to reach out to him, to take his hand and pull him closer. Instead he bit his lip and focused on the constellations above him. Aziraphale let out a sigh and rolled onto his back.

“It isn’t fair what your parents did to you. Were they all the family you had?”

“I have a sister. Younger. She was only fourteen when they threw me out.” Crowley smiled sadly. “She tried to leave with me. Said that if I wasn’t welcome then she didn’t want to be either. But I made her stay. I could hardly take care of myself, let alone her.”

“What was her name?”

“Lilith. She looks like me. Same red hair.”

Aziraphale smiled. “She sounds lovely. I would like to meet her someday.”

Crowley turned his head to look at him. “Yeah?”

“Yes. She sounds like quite the little rebel, much like you.”

Crowley laughed, the image of his sister swimming in his mind. He hadn’t really allowed himself to miss her up until know. It had been easier to block all this out, to lump the bad in with the good and put it all behind him. But now that he really thought about, he missed her terribly. He wasn’t aware that he was crying until the tear slid down the side of his face and into his hairline. His first instinct was to hide it, to turn his face away from Aziraphale in shame. But then he felt the gentle pull of Aziraphale’s hand on his chin, and he turned back to look at him.

“You don’t have to hide from me Crowley. There is nothing to be ashamed of.”

Crowley sniffed. “Says you.”

Aziraphale’s eyes twinkled like the stars above them. “Yes, and I’m typically right.”

Crowley rolled his eyes and shoved his shoulder playfully. “Your humility astounds me.”

“Do you deny that I’m always right?”

He scoffed. “Of course I deny it! You proved you can be wrong tonight.”

Aziraphale looked down, his voice going quiet. “Yes, I suppose I was.”

The song on the radio changed to something slow and melodic, and Aziraphale perked up.

“Oh, I know that one!”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Of course the one song you know would have come out twenty five years ago.”

Aziraphale swatted at him. “Vera Lynn has a lovely voice. My mother always used to sing this to me.”

Crowley watched as Aziraphale swayed slightly, humming along to something about Angel’s dining at the Ritz, when an idea struck him. It was a crazy idea, and perhaps stupid, but as he looked at Aziraphale, he knew he had never wanted anything more. He stood up and held out his hand.

“Crowley? What are you doing?”

“Come on, angel. You said nobody has ever wanted to dance with you before, but I’m here to tell you that that’s not true. May I have this dance?”

Aziraphale stared at Crowley’s hand with wide eyes. When he looked up and met his eye, Crowley saw him swallow.

“Are you sure?”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t ask you if I wasn’t.”

Slowly, Aziraphale extended his hand and placed it in Crowley’s. He pulled him up and then climbed down onto the grass. There were lightning bugs scattered throughout the field, giving the scene an almost otherworldly quality as he pulled Aziraphale close to him. Aziraphale looked up, and his face was only a few inches away. Carefully, Crowley slid his hand onto Aziraphale’s hip and Aziraphale lifted his other hand to place on his shoulder. They began to sway, slowly back and forth, as Vera Lynn serenaded them. Aziraphale still seemed stiff and unsure, his eyes darting up and down between his face and chest.

“Relax angel. I have you. You’re safe here.”

Aziraphale let out a slow breath, and then very carefully leaned his head forward to rest on Crowley’s chest. His soft curls tickled Crowley’s cheek, and he finally allowed himself to do something he had wanted to do since he met Aziraphale. He leaned his face down and pressed his cheek into the soft down of his blonde hair, inhaling the intoxicating aroma that was Aziraphale. They were barely moving now, just swaying slightly in each other’s arms. This wasn’t something Crowley had ever imagined he would be able to have, so to have Aziraphale in his arms right now felt like a dream. He felt like any moment now he would wake up and this would be gone. Aziraphale wouldn’t be with him and he would have to go back to never touching him. Well, if that were the case, Crowley was going to enjoy this dream while it lasted. He hugged Aziraphale a bit closer.

“You’re so soft.”

Aziraphale hummed. “Is that a problem?”

“No, not at all. I love it.”

Aziraphale pulled back and looked up him. Crowley could see the question in his eyes, but he didn’t want him to ask it. He didn’t want to come up with an answer about what this was. Not right now. Right now, he just wanted this. He wanted Aziraphale.

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. Inside and out.”

Aziraphale’s face softened. “I was going to say the same to you, my dear.”

Crowley wasn’t sure who moved closer first, but suddenly their mouths with only centimeters apart. Aziraphale’s breath tickled his face. Ever so gently, Crowley brushed his lips against Aziraphale’s. For a moment Aziraphale was still and Crowley worried he had done the wrong thing, but then Aziraphale pressed forward and secured their lips together. The kiss was gentle and soft, slow and steady. It would almost seem unsure if it weren’t for the quiet sigh of relief Aziraphale let out. Crowley wanted more, so much more, but he didn’t want to go too fast. Any sudden movement seemed like it would scare Aziraphale off. Crowley felt like the lightning bugs had flown from the grass and into him. He felt illuminated from the inside out, every never alive with the feeling of Aziraphale against him and his warm lips moving against his own. Crowley brought his hand up and cradled Aziraphale’s cheek as tenderly as he could and Aziraphale opened his mouth slightly, allowing Crowley to deepen the kiss.

But then the song came to an end, and the moment broke along with it. Aziraphale pulled away, his eyes wide and his breathing heavy.

“Oh dear, it’s… it’s getting quite late isn’t it? We should be getting home before my mother starts to worry.”

Crowley let his hand drop as Aziraphale stepped away from him. Aziraphale had begun to twist his hands fretfully in front of him, a little worried crease in between his brows. Crowley smiled gently. He had known Aziraphale would be anxious and unsure, but that was alright. At least now he knew. He had felt it in the way Aziraphale had kissed him. And if Aziraphale needed him to go slow, he could do that. He would do anything for Aziraphale.

“Yeah, sure angel. Let’s get you home. Wouldn’t want you to miss out on your beauty rest.”

A look of pure relief washed over Aziraphale’s face and the tension in his shoulders seemed to relax. “No. We wouldn’t want that.”

Crowley smiled. “Let’s get you home, angel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this made up for the tense ending of the last chapter. They're just soft bois. 
> 
> The first song they were dancing to was [Wooly Bully](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KZJiGu6Gz8E) and the second was obviously [A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xTeiYN_Vq6E)
> 
> Comments are always greatly appreciated!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're getting another chapter because I'm currently living in this world in my mind and I'm on a roll. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> CW: Racism and racial discrimination

Aziraphale wasn’t entirely sure if he was ok. Physically yes, he was fine. But emotionally? Not so clear on that. He was currently sitting in the comfy chair beside his bed and twisting the buttons on his waistcoat over and over in between his fingers. He was a bit surprised he hadn’t popped them off yet. He tried to calm the nerves that jittered just beneath the surface but found the more he tired to settle them the more wound up he got. He was just so confused.

Crowley had kissed him. And he had kissed Crowley back. That had been two nights ago. The whole night had been wonderful, truth be told. Well, everything after the dance. That had rather been a disaster, thanks to him. But then Crowley had come after him and had danced with him and had told him secrets about himself that nobody else knew. And then… Well, then he had kissed him. And it had been magical and breathtaking and everything he had imagined it would be. Until he had panicked. He had panicked and pulled away and Crowley had been so gracious about it. He had simply smiled and drove him home. And then. Well, and then nothing. Nothing else had happened. They hadn’t even talked about it since.

He hoped Crowley didn’t think he was avoiding him, even if it were partly true. They still talked at dinner, even if Aziraphale had barely been able to look at him without blushing. And they had talked on the front lawn, even if the conversation had seemed a bit stilted. And that was what brought him to this moment, his worry and panic mounting with every second.

Had he ruined everything? Did Crowley think he didn’t want him? Was this what their relationship would be from now on? Just fleeting glances and awkward conversation? He desperately wanted to fix this, but he didn’t know how. He wondered what would happen if he just walked up to Crowley and told him outright what was on his mind.

_Hello Crowley, yes, I don’t know what to do. I’ve never before felt the way I feel about you and I rather think I might be in love with you. But if you recall, we could literally be murdered for this love. I don’t think part of my family would understand and it could potentially destroy my life as I know it, as well as your own. I want to protect you, but I also want to slam you against the barn door and kiss you silly. But if I do that, I don’t think there will be any going back. I fear that if I let myself love you, I will throw everything else away all for the chance that you’ll look at me like I matter and tell me you love me back. And that terrifies me. How can I bank the rest of my life on this? Can I forsake my family for you? I think I just might. And every time I look at you, I want to tear my hair out in frustration because you are beauty incarnate and I feel unworthy of you. Do you understand?_

He groaned and dropped his face into his hands. No, he couldn’t say that. He would sound like an absolute mental case. What if Crowley regretted the kiss? What if it had meant nothing to him, just been a fleeting fancy that he had engaged in because the moment felt right? He chewed his bottom lip and closed his eyes. He felt a migraine coming on. The sound of the door opening made him look up.

Anathema stood in the doorway, staring at him. “What’s wrong with you?”

Aziraphale groaned again. He wanted to keep this a secret, but he had to tell someone. And at the moment, the only safe person to tell was Anathema.

“Close the door and sit down.”

For a moment she looked taken aback, but then she did as he said and dropped down in front of him.

“Zira, what’s wrong? You’ve been acting weird these past two days. What happened at the dance?”

He let out a breath and peeked at her through his fingers. “I kissed Crowley.”

Anathema’s jaw dropped open. “What?” she cried.

“Shh! Be quiet Anathema! I don’t want anyone else to hear.”

She bit her lip and gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry. What?” she asked much more quietly. “When? How?”

“After the dance. Crowley and I drove out to the silo and talked. And then we danced together, and… I don’t know. It just happened. We were close together and we kissed.”

Anathema’s eyes were alight with joy. “Oh, Zira, I’m so happy for you. But… then why have you seemed so weird.”

“Because I panicked. I pushed him away and told him to take me home.”

Her brows knitted together. “Was he mad?”

“No! He was understanding and a perfect gentleman!”

She stared at him for several seconds. “Ok… so? What’s the issue? Are you having second thoughts? Is he a bad kisser?”

“No!” Aziraphale threw his hands in the air. “He’s a wonderful kisser. So good that it’s all I’ve been able to think about since it happened.”

“Zira, I really don’t see the issue.”

“I just, gah!” He gripped at his hair. “Anathema, I’ve already told you the issue. What could we ever have? What sort of future? If dad found out he would never accept me. He already thinks I’m too soft. He could take away my college fund. He would fire Crowley. And then if the town found out they would chase him away and I would forever be an outcast. So much could go wrong.”

Anathema frowned and rubbed her fingers along the pattern of his bedspread. “And you don’t think he’s worth the risk?”

Tears sprung to Aziraphale’s eyes. “That’s the problem. I think he is. But I’m afraid. How can I just give up everything else on the chance that I could be with him?”

She leaned forward and took his hand. “Have you spoken to him about this?”

He shook his head.

“I think you should.”

“Ana, I’m too afraid. I’m a coward. He deserves better.”

“I think he should get a say in what he deserves and wants. He’s a grown man. And what are you going to do? Hide forever? Are you just never going to find love and share a home with someone?”

He looked down. He knew she was right, but that didn’t stop the fear from clawing its way up his chest and into his heart like a venom that couldn’t be sucked out. Why couldn’t he just be more brave?

“Come on, get up.”

He looked up at her through misty eyes. “What?”

“You’re coming with me. I’m not going to let you sit here and wallow for the rest of the day.”

“But where are we going?” he asked as she pulled him to his feet.

“I’m meeting Newt and Eric in town. We’re going for milkshakes. And you’re going to come with. Get out of your head for a few hours and have a good time.”

“Oh, Ana, I don’t know that I want to hang out with a group of teenagers.”

She rolled her eyes. “We’re three years younger than you, not toddlers. Now come on before I physically drag you out. I’m sure Crowley would find that very alluring.”

Aziraphale whined but gave in, allowing her to pull him after her. Thirty minutes later they were walking up to the one soda shop in town, Zaddie’s. Two teenage boys were already waiting out front for them. He immediately knew which was Eric and which was Newt. Eric was a handsome, dark skinned young man with lashes for days. Newt, on the other hand, looked a bit scraggly and had a permanently nervous smile plastered on his face. They straightened up when they saw Anathema.

“Hey boys, hope you don’t mind that I brought my brother along.”

Their eyes darted to Aziraphale and Eric smiled brightly. “Not at all. It’ll be good to have someone around who doesn’t talk about aura’s and Zodiac signs. You don’t, do you?”

“Um, no, I don’t,” Aziraphale said.

“Great!”

“Come on then,” Anathema said, taking Aziraphale and Eric by the hands. “Let’s go get a table.”

The shop wasn’t particularly busy at this time of day, so they had their choice of tables. They picked one near the stained-glass window. Aziraphale sighed. He didn’t really want to be here. It had been nearly four years since he had been inside this particular establishment. After a particularly bad bullying incident he had avoided going out in public alone, and since he was always alone, he had learned to simply avoid these places in general. But he wasn’t alone now, so he tried to push those thoughts out and examined the short menu that listed the shake flavors. A waitress approached them, and Aziraphale noticed she wore an unpleasantly pinched expression.

“What can I get for you?” she asked brusquely, her eyes trained on Aziraphale.

“Oh, um, I’ll have a chocolate shake.”

She wrote it on her notepad and looked at Anathema.

“Strawberry.”

Again, a quick note before turning to Newt.

“Um, I’ll have a Strawberry as well I think.”

She nodded and snapped her notebook shut. “Right. I’ll have that out to you.”

“Excuse me!” Anathema said loudly. “I think you missed an order.”

She looked pointedly at Eric, who was simply smiling politely at the waitress. Her whole body had stiffened, and her brow was now lowered into a scowl. For a moment Aziraphale thought they were about to have a confrontation on their hands, but then she reopened her notepad.

“What can I get you?” she asked without looking at him.

“I’ll have a vanilla shake, thanks.”

She spun away without another word and marched back behind the counter. Aziraphale stared in surprise. He had seen his fair share of racial discrimination, and it usually didn’t end like that. Eric saw the surprise on Aziraphale’s face and laughed.

“About four years ago they denied service to my bother and Hastur. Threw them out the door and everything. Two days later they received a notice of eviction. Turns out the whole building is owned by Hastur’s cousins. So, their choices were to serve us or lose their building. I’m pretty sure it was an actually difficult decision for them. But in the end, they decided this was easier.”

Aziraphale frowned. “That should never have been an issue to begin with and it shouldn’t have taken such drastic action to get them to serve you a product you were paying for. People are so backwards.”

Eric shrugged. “Aint that the truth. But what can you do? All I can hope is that things continue to change.”

“Yeah, well, they’re changing too slowly for my liking,” Anathema said, glaring at the girl behind the counter. “I think I’m going to go to college for Law. Do something that could actually help make change, you know? I could do pro bono work for disenfranchises groups and people.”

Aziraphale smiled at his sister. “Of all the careers I can see for you, lawyer certainly fits. The courts wouldn’t know what hit them.”

“And God help whatever judge stood in your way,” Eric added.

Anathema tossed her hair. “It’s true. Arguing with me is futile.”

Aziraphale chuckled and glanced out the window. What he saw made his heart stutter in his chest. Crowley was walking down the sidewalk on the opposite side of the road. He had his hands in his too tight jeans and his face was turned up slightly towards the sun. God, he was beautiful. Too perfect to even be real. Perhaps Aziraphale had finally had a mental breakdown and it would turn out that all this time Crowley was a figment of his imagination. He wouldn’t even be that surprised. It would make more sense than the reality that such a perfect human wanted him in the same maddening way that he wanted him. Anathema seemed to catch on to who he was staring at and let out a sigh.

“Maybe if you stare a bit harder, you’ll be able to project your thoughts right into his brain.”

Aziraphale snapped out of his thoughts and looked back at his sister with a flush, his eyes darting to Newt and Eric.

She waved her hand. “Oh, they don’t care.”

“Care about what?” Eric frowned.

“That my brother is completely in love with our farmhand.”

“Anathema!” Aziraphale cried, panic returning. He didn’t want anyone to know.

Eric raised his eyebrows. “Oh yeah, I don’t care about that. I was thirteen the first time I walked in on my brother and Hastur. Not something you forget. Although,” he turned back to Anathema. “You really shouldn’t have done that. It’s not right to out somebody who doesn’t want to come out. That’s what my brother told me, at least.”

Aziraphale couldn’t remember the last time Anathema had looked properly ashamed for her actions. But at Eric’s words she looked down and flushed pink.

“I’m sorry Zira. I won’t do that again.”

He let out a breath. Eric’s words had done a good deal to calm him. “It’s alright dear. I forgive you.”

Newt continued to look between the three of them with the same nervous expression. When Aziraphale looked back out the window, Crowley was no longer in sight.

* * *

Crowley inhaled the warm afternoon air as he strolled down the Main Street. There weren’t too many people out today, seeing as it was two pm on a weekday. Shadwell had sent him into town so that he could ship something from the post office, so he was taking his time going back to the farm. He needed to get out a bit and clear his head.

He really wasn’t sure what to think. His kiss with Aziraphale had been fantastic. He had hoped Aziraphale would come to him so that they could talk about it, but now it seemed as though he was avoiding him. Crowley chewed on his lip as the thought that had been nagging at him for the past two days resurfaced.

Did Aziraphale regret what had happened? Once he had kissed him had he realized it wasn’t what he wanted. The thought made Crowley’s heart twist painfully. He had tried his best to not get his hopes up, and yet that kiss refused to stop playing in his head. Those blue eyes that reflected back the starlight shimmered just below his eyelids and the feel of petal soft lips against his own haunted his every waking moment, and most of his sleeping ones as well. It was torture. But he wanted to leave the rest up to Aziraphale. He wouldn’t push him. If this was what Aziraphale wanted, then he would tell him. He had to. Crowley didn’t want to come off as clingy.

As he passed by the general store, he made a quick decision and ducked in. It was cooler inside and darker, so he took off his sunglasses. He looked around until he spotted the candy isle and made a beeline for it. Aziraphale had mentioned that his favorite candies were Fry’s Crème Eggs, so he quickly picked a few of them out. Even if Aziraphale didn’t want to be with him, he still wanted to make him happy. Once he had his candies, he made is way up to counter. But when he got there, he realized he was being stared at quite intently.

The woman behind the counter looked like she belonged behind the guitar in a rock and roll band. Her short dark hair and darker nail polish made her stick out from any other women he knew. Paired with the jeans and a band shirt, it looked as if she had been transplanted here from another country. It didn’t help that she hadn’t yet rang him up and was still staring at him while she chewed her gum.

“You’re new.”

It wasn’t a question. “Uh, sort of. Been here a month.”

She nodded. “You work on Fell farm.”

“Yeah, how did you know?”

She rolled her eyes. “This is a small town. Do you honestly think anything happens here without the whole town finding out? The people here are vultures and their carrion is gossip. I can’t even smoke a blunt without the ladies at the church throwing up a tizzy.”

Crowley snorted, a smile slowly overtaking his face. He could already tell he would like this person.

“You know, I think those beehives on their heads are actually filled with bees. It would explain all the noise they make.”

She threw her head back and laughed at that. “Good one. And funny, cuz that’s my name.”

Crowley frowned. “What, beehive?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, stupid. Just Bee.”

“Ah, right.” He held his hand out. “I’m Crowley.”

Bee shook his hand. “Yeah, I think my bother Hastur mentioned something about meeting you while you were out with the younger Fell brother.”

Crowley immediately remembered the tall, off putting blonde. Even though he looked nothing like the woman in front of him, he could completely see how they were related.

“Oh, right. He helped out with some wankers in the park.”

She grinned. “Yeah, he’s good at that. He makes it a bit of a pastime, beating the crap out of intolerant people. Other people have meditation, but hey, whatever works.”

Crowley smiled. “Well, I appreciated it. I mean, I was one second away from knocking all their teeth out myself, but he saved me the trouble.”

“Glad to hear it.” She began to ring up the chocolate eggs. “You sure do like these things, huh?”

He felt a blush rise in his cheeks. “Uh, they aren’t for me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I see. You know, if you are ever looking for a different job, we could use the help around here. I’ve never hired anyone because I couldn’t stand to work with a square, but you seem alright.”

He chuckled. “Thanks. But um, I think I’m happy where I am for now.”

She glanced down at the bag of candied eggs. “Yeah, I get that. Still, don’t be shy to come around. I could do with seeing someone besides my little brother and his boyfriend.”

Crowley’s eyes widened at her casual use of the term. “Uh, you should probably be careful saying that to just anyone.”

Her grinned widened. “The local police are in my family’s pockets. I can do what I want. Do you have an issue with it?”

He gripped the bag tighter to his chest. “No, I don’t.”

With the way she was looking at him, he felt like she could see right into his soul. “Good.”

“Right, well, I’ll see you around,” he said as he began to make his way towards the door.”

“Yep. And I hope he likes the eggs.”

Crowley glanced back at her once more before turning and making his way back out into the warm summer sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fry's Creme Eggs are now called Cadbury Creme Eggs. A bit of angst and pining to go along with our soft bois.  
> Comments are my life blood and much appreciated and beloved!


	10. Chapter 10

Aziraphale lay reclined back in his hammock, enjoying the lazy Saturday afternoon. The sun was already high in the sky, but beneath the shade of the willow trees Aziraphale was feeling plenty cool. A breeze blew through and rustled his hair, the pages of his book flipping idly. All around cicadas sang, and from the west he could smell the oranges from the old grove by the river. It had been months since they had bloomed, but he could still catch their scent when it was blown his way on occasion. For the first time in several days he felt at peace.

He still hadn’t talked to Crowley. He knew he needed to gather his courage and just do it, but every time he saw him his nerve would give out. Why couldn’t Crowley just make this easy on him and come to him? Aziraphale didn’t want anyone to be hurt, and he felt that if they talked about what had happened, someone would be. Either he would say the wrong thing or Crowley would tell him it was no big deal, that it had meant nothing to him. Oh, that would hurt. He didn’t let his mind go far enough to think about what would happen if things went right.

As though summoned, the sound of an approaching truck made him lift his head. His hammock was nestled off to the side of the house, just past the yard, so he could see as Crowley and his father pulled up. Crowley got out and slammed the truck door. Even from this distance Aziraphale could see the sweat shining off his shoulders and the way it made his hair stick to his neck. There was grease smudged on his face and arms, likely from working on either the truck or the tractor. He was filthy. He was delicious. Aziraphale imagined washing him off, giving attention to every inch of his body as he cleaned him thoroughly. Would Crowley want to wash him back?

A blush rose to his cheeks when Crowley turned and looked right at him. He sat there frozen, wondering if Crowley was going to come over and talk with him. But then Crowley just lifted a hand and waved. Swallowing, Aziraphale waved back. He watched as Crowley leaned back against the truck and pulled a cigarette from his pocket. He was still staring at him, maintaining eye contact. Aziraphale’s eyes tracked every movement as he lifted the cigarette to his mouth and slid it between his lips, purposely slow and sensual. A sweat had begun to form on Aziraphale’s brow that had nothing to do with the heat. Crowley lit the cigarette and took a long drag before taking it out and blowing the smoke into the air. He tilted his head and grinned at Aziraphale, then winked before putting it back in his mouth. Oh, dear Lord. This was all a show for him, he knew it was.

He forced his eyes away from Crowley and back to his book. Was Crowley trying to bait him? Entice him? Confuse him? All of the above were working. By the time he looked back up again, Crowley was gone. He wasn’t sure whether to be disappointed or glad. He already had Crowley tempting his mind as it was. He didn’t need a public show.

An hour later Aziraphale made his way into the house. He set his book down on the table and went to the cupboard to retrieve a glass of water. He smiled at his mother when she came into the kitchen.

“Oh, Zira, I meant to tell you earlier, but you’ll need to fend for yourself for dinner tonight.”

Aziraphale raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

“Your father and I are driving down to Twin Falls to visit my sister for the night. We won’t be home until tomorrow evening. But I’ve made a casserole and it’s in the refrigerator. You’ll just need to heat it up in the oven.”

“Alright, that’s perfectly fine. I am a capable human being, you know.”

His mother smiled indulgently. “Oh, I know that. I hope you won’t be too lonely out here though, because Anathema will be staying with a friend in town overnight.”

“I’ll be fine, mother. I’ve been alone before,” he said as he raised the glass to his lips to take a drink.

She hummed. “That’s true. At least you won’t be completely alone. Crowley can keep you company for the night.”

Aziraphale coughed and nearly spit out his drink. Oh. Right. This meant he was going to be alone, in the house, with Crowley. For the entire night. He fought back against the blush he knew was showing on his cheeks.

“Ah, that’s right. Well I’m sure we’ll manage.”

She nodded as she went about tidying the kitchen. “I’m sure you will.”

He didn’t think he liked that knowing glint in her eyes. The hours went by quicker than he would have liked, and before he knew it, he was standing on the porch and waving goodbye as his parents drove away. The taillights disappeared around the bend, but Aziraphale remained where he stood for several minutes more. His eyes moved to the barn. Crowley was probably in there right now. Would he come inside for dinner or would he assume there was no meal tonight? Either way, if Crowley didn’t come, Aziraphale _would_ gather the courage to go tell him to come eat. He wouldn’t let him starve.

Going back inside, Aziraphale took the casserole out of the fridge and placed it into the preheated oven. It would need to cook for forty-five minutes now, so Aziraphale went upstairs to make himself presentable. He was being ridiculous, and he knew it. It was just Crowley. He didn’t care how he looked. And even if he did, Aziraphale shouldn’t care so much about what he thought. But God, he wanted Crowley to like the way he looked.

Thirty minutes later he went downstairs to set the table. He was wearing a baby blue sweater vest over a white button up and tan pants. His bowtie tonight was white and blue polka dot. Setting the table was an automatic and cursory thing, something he had done since he had first been able to carry a cup without dropping it.

The floorboard creaked behind him and he yelped, the glass in his hand slipping from his fingers and shattering on the floor.

“Shit!” he cursed, then looked up into the doorway.

Crowley was standing there, beautiful as ever. “Crap, sorry angel. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Aziraphale took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. Seeing that it was Crowley did not help.

“No, no it’s fine. That was my fault. Shouldn’t be so jumpy.”

He went to the closet to retrieve the broom, but when he came back Crowley was already on his knees picking up the larger of the pieces.

“Oh, no, Crowley don’t do that! You’re going to cut your hands.”

Crowley looked up from where he was crouched and gave him a devastating grin. “Nah, I’m made of tougher stuff than glass. Besides, my hands are rough enough to handle it.”

Aziraphale’s heart gave an uneven thump in his chest. He remembered the feeling of those hands as he had held him while they danced. They were rough with callouses, it was true, but they were also firm and steady and sure. Just like Crowley. Not soft and weak like him. He blinked hard and looked away, walking forward to broom up the rest of the smaller pieces.

Once it was all cleaned up Crowley went to the table and took up his normal seat across from Aziraphale. Only now that there were only two places set, the whole kitchen seemed so much smaller and more intimate. Aziraphale did his best to keep his breathing under control as he took the casserole out of the oven and paced it on the stovetop. The sun had already set outside the window. For a moment he considered lighting a few candles rather than keeping the bright overhead lights on, but he quickly realized the implications of that and shook it from his head.

He brought two plates of casserole to the table and set them down. “I hope you don’t mind this terribly. It’s all my mother left for us.”

Crowley grinned and shook his head. “It looks great angel.”

Aziraphale blushed at the nickname. Apparently, it was going to stick around. “Right.”

He sat down and they both dug in. Aziraphale busied himself with eating so that he wouldn’t have to tiptoe around small talk, but Crowley didn’t seem to catch on.

“So, how was your day?”

“Oh, it was fine. I mostly just relaxed out on the hammock and read.”

Crowley nodded. “Yeah, I saw you.”

Aziraphale swallowed around the lump in his throat. “That’s right. And you? How was your day?”

“Good. Got a lot done. Fixed the gear box on the truck to stop it from sticking.”

“You’re a mechanic as well? My, you certainly are a man of many talents.”

Crowley chuckled. “That I am, angel.”

Aziraphale tried to hide his furious blush by taking a drink of water. He could feel Crowley’s eyes on him but refused to look back. What was he supposed to say? Well, he supposed he could apologize for running away like a coward. But every time the words bubbled to the surface, he forced them back down. Coward through and through, he supposed. Crowley seemed to notice that he was uncomfortable, and blessedly changed the subject.

“So, your parents went to visit family?”

“Yes, my aunt and her family?”

“Did you not want to go with?”

Aziraphale furrowed his brow, his eyes on his plate. “I’m not a terribly big fan of my uncle, or my cousin Sandy.”

This piqued Crowley’s interest. “Oh? Are they that bad?”

“Not… not bad.” Aziraphale didn’t like talking bad about his family, but when he looked up and met Crowley’s eye, he knew he wanted to be honest with him. “My uncle is convinced that every man should meet a certain standard of masculinity. I’ve never been able to meet it. When I was thirteen, I stayed with them for a week, and my uncle took it upon himself to set me right. He made me chop wood for hours every day, until I could barely feel my arms. Wouldn’t even let me take a break. My cousin Sandy thought it was hilarious.”

Crowley scowled. “He sounds like a fucking arsehole.”

Aziraphale laughed without humor. “That is one way of putting it. I refused to go back after that, and mother never made me. Gabriel loved it there. He got all of the praise he so desperately desired. _He_ was good enough.”

A warm hand suddenly covered his and he jumped slightly. He looked up to see Crowley staring at him with immeasurable compassion.

“You are good enough. Your uncle and cousin are the one’s who are lacking. There’s nothing wrong with us.”

Aziraphale blinked away the tears that suddenly threatened to fall. He had never been told that he was good enough before. Nobody had ever taken the time to make sure he knew he mattered before, and it made his heart constrict painfully in his chest. He didn’t miss the ‘us’, either.

“No, no I suppose there isn’t.”

The tension stretched out between them as Crowley kept his hand over his. Just as Aziraphale was wondering if something more was going to happen, Crowley pulled his hand away and looked back to his plate. Aziraphale let out a breath, his eyes not moving from Crowley’s face. Crowley always looked so brave and certain, but sometimes, like right now, Aziraphale could see something more beneath that. Something a little bit afraid and unsure. He wanted so badly to reassure him as Crowley had done for him, but he could think of nothing to say.

Once they had finished their dinner, Aziraphale offered to do the cleaning up.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Crowley said with a frown. “You did the cooking. I should clean up.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “I would hardly call what I did cooking. It wasn’t a terrible hardship to put the casserole in the oven.”

“Still, I insist. Why don’t you pour us some wine while I wash up?”

Aziraphale flushed but nodded. “Very well. Do you have a preference on white or red?”

“Surprise me.”

Aziraphale chose what he knew to be a bottle of his mothers good red wine and poured two healthy sized glasses before settling down in the family room to wait for Crowley. He joined him not long after and threw himself down on the floral print sofa, spread out and looking rather pleased. They had never spent time in here together before, what with his family always being around. The low light of the lamp cast Crowley in a lovely light. He watched as Crowley picked up his wine glass and took a long drink. He couldn’t help the way his eyes traced the line of his throat as he swallowed. He forced his eyes away when Crowley looked back at him.

“Are you alright, angel?”

Aziraphale sipped his wine. “Alright? Of course I’m alright, why wouldn’t I be?”

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “Well for one thing, it’s seems as though you’ve been avoiding me since the dance.”

Shame bubbled inside him. “No, I haven’t necessarily been avoiding you. I just… I didn’t know what to say.”

Crowley stared into the contents of his glass, a small frown on his face. “Look, what happened doesn’t have to be a big deal. We were just having a good time. I don’t want you to act differently around me because of that, ok?”

Aziraphale so desperately wanted to tell him that no, it _was_ a big deal to him. What he felt for Crowley didn’t feel casual at all. It felt important and catastrophic and like it would destroy him if he held onto it for too long. So instead he simply nodded, hoping his emotions didn’t show on his face. Crowley seemed to relax a bit, though he still looked upset.

“Good. Now tell me about that book I saw you reading today.”

Aziraphale’s face broke into a brilliant smile, his heart somehow breaking more. Nobody ever asked him about the books he was reading. He told him all about the mystery novel he had picked up while in town, going into great detail about the plot and characters. Crowley watched and listened intently with a small smile the whole time, only interrupting to ask leading questions. By the time he was finished, Aziraphale was out of breath and he knew his cheeks were probably quite rosy, and it wasn’t just because of the glass of wine.

Their conversation continued of for some time after that, the two of them laughing and debating topics neither were normally able to talk about with others, if only because nobody else cared. It felt to Aziraphale in that moment as though they were the only two people in the world who existed, and an image came unbidden to his mind. An image of them years down the road, in a home very similar to this one, only it was theirs. A place that could keep them hidden from the horrors and cruelty of the world. Where they could laugh and just be themselves.

Crowley laughter trailed off when he saw how Aziraphale was looking at him. “What is it, angel?”

Aziraphale just shook his head. “Nothing. It’s just that I always have a good time when I’m with you. I don’t feel like I have to pretend to be something I’m not.”

Crowley softened. “You don’t. I like who you are.”

“I know. And I like who you are. It just feels good to be free.”

When Aziraphale looked up and met his eye again, Crowley was giving him a look that he didn’t quite understand. He looked almost desperate, his eyes bright even in the dim lamps. Suddenly, Crowley stood and put his wine glass down on the table.

“Crowley? Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m great. I actually got you something the other day and I haven’t had the chance to give it to you.”

Aziraphale lit up. He loved gifts. “Oh, really? Where is it?”

“I left it up in my loft, if you want to come with me?” He held out his hand for Aziraphale to take, which he did with a fast beating heart.

He followed him out through the kitchen in onto the darkened lawn. What could Crowley have possibly gotten him? He hoped he hadn’t spent too much on him, he didn’t want Crowley to waste his hard-earned money.

Once they reached the barn, Crowley turned on the battery powered lantern and led him up the ladder to the loft. It had been a few weeks since he had been up here, but it still looked the exact same. Aziraphale stopped under the skylight and looked up at the wide expanse of stars above them. When he finally looked away, he saw Crowley standing a few feet away, staring at him. His breath caught in his chest, but he maintained eye contact.

“What- what was the gift?”

Crowley blinked, seeming to come out of whatever he was thinking. “Right. It’s not much.”

He walked over to a metal bucket that was filled with water and lifted a plastic bag out of it. Aziraphale frowned. That was quite an odd place to keep a gift. Crowley saw his expression and grinned.

“Didn’t want them to melt in the heat.”

He held out the bag and Aziraphale took it with mounting curiosity. He opened the plastic bag and peered inside. For a long moment, it felt like time had stopped. The bag was filled with several chocolate cream eggs. His favorite chocolate cream eggs. He knew that he had only mentioned them being his favorite once, several weeks ago, and yet Crowley had remembered. He had remembered something most people probably thought of as completely inconsequential, but Crowley knew Aziraphale. He knew him and he cared about him. He looked back up at Crowley, his eyes wide.

Crowley scratched the back of his neck. “Like I said, I know it’s not a big thing, but I saw them and thought of you. I thought you might like them and—”

He was cut off when Aziraphale dropped the sack onto the floor. Crowley’s eyebrows jumped up his forehead.

“Angel? What—”

Aziraphale stepped towards him then and grabbed him by the front of the shirt. He was tired of being a coward. For once he could be brave. Crowley’s face morphed into shock as he was pressed back against one of the wooden support beams. His pupils were completely blown, and his mouth fell open with an intake of breath. Their bodies were now pressed together, the heat rolling off them mingling and mixing in the air. Aziraphale’s eyes darted all around Crowley’s face, looking for a sign that he should stop. He saw none. The only thing there was open adoration.

“Aziraphale,” he said quietly.

This was all the encouragement he needed to surge forward and press his lips to Crowley’s. It was messy and uncoordinated at first, a hurried mess of lips and tongues, but then Crowley brought his hands up to cradle his face and took control, slowing it down and deepening it. Aziraphale felt lightheaded as Crowley’s tongue swiped across his bottom lip, and he opened up to allow him entrance. Crowley moaned into his mouth, the sound going right to Aziraphale’s cock. He pressed his hardening length against Crowley’s thigh, and the red head pulled back, breaking the kiss. Aziraphale fought back a whimper.

“Angel,” Crowley said quietly, rubbing his thumb over Aziraphale’s cheek. “What do you want?”

Aziraphale pressed his face into the physical contact. “You. Just you Crowley.”

“In what way? Do you want to lie with me?”

Heat rose to Aziraphale’s face and he nodded. “Yes.”

Crowley bit his lip, his eyes searching his face. “Is that all you want? Do you want this to be just for tonight, and tomorrow we go back to pretending like there’s nothing between us? If that’s the case, I’ll give that to you. Is that all you want from me?”

Aziraphale bit his lip. “Is that what you want?”

A pained looked crossed Crowley’s face. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”

Aziraphale raised his hand to card through his red waves. “Darling, that’s the _only_ thing that matters to me.”

Something that sounded a great deal like a sob broke free from Crowley’s mouth. “No, that’s not all I want. Once I have you, I don’t think I’m going to want to let you go.”

Aziraphale felt as though his heart were a buoy, rising to the surface of a sea that had kept it beneath the torrent of harsh waves for so very long. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he could breath. He smiled at him gently.

“Then don’t, darling. Don’t let me go.”

Crowley pulled his face back to him, their lips interlocking once again. Kissing Crowley was better than he ever could have imagined, and he never wanted to stop. Luckily, it didn’t seem Crowley did either. Suddenly, he felt himself being walked backwards. His calves hit something soft, and then he was falling back onto the mattress Crowley had set up as a bed. Crowley fell with him, his long legs straddling either side of Aziraphale’s hips. He ground down against him and they both moaned. Aziraphale could feel Crowley’s length straining against his blue jeans and he suddenly found that he couldn’t go another moment without seeing him.

He hands scrabbled at the buttons of the jeans, but he found that his hands were shaking too much to actually make any progress. Crowley chuckled and moved his hands, placing them over his head on the mattress.

“Stay, angel. Let me take care of you.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened as Crowley sat back on his knees. His long, slender fingers moved down and popped open the metal button before sliding the zipper down. The sound of it felt incredibly loud, with nothing but Aziraphale’s heavy breathing to fill the space around them. Crowley’s eyes never left his face, those beautiful amber eyes boring into him and looking for something. Aziraphale wasn’t sure what, but whatever it was, he wanted to give it to him. Crowley hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his jeans and pulled them down to his knees.

Aziraphale squirmed beneath him. He so badly wanted to touch, to remove the final barrier of Crowley’s underwear and see Crowley in all his glory. But Crowley had told him to stay, and he would. He chewed his bottom lip as Crowley slowly ran his fingers over the seam of his underclothes.

“Are you sure, angel? Are you sure this is what you want? You don’t have to do anything just because it’s what I want. We can go back to everything being as it was.

Aziraphale sat up that, pressing his finger to Crowley’s lips. “None of that. I want this. I’ve wanted this since I first laid eyes on you. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve seen and having you like this is the ultimate honor.”

Crowley let out a stuttering breath, and then Aziraphale was pulling his mouth back to his. This kiss was softer, less rushed. He wanted to savor Crowley, prove to him that this was all he wanted. He needed to feel his skin, so he grabbed at the tight material of the t-shirt and dragged it over Crowley’s head. Even though he had seen him without a shirt before, it never failed to leave him breathless. He moved his hand to the waistband and dipped his finger in.

“May I?”

Crowley swallowed loudly but nodded. Aziraphale pulled the waistband down to reveal his cock, hard and flushed red in the dim light of the loft. He was stunning. Aziraphale ran his fingers up the shaft, just teasing, which elicited a full body shiver from the gorgeous red head.

“Fuck, angel.”

He smiled. “Does that feel good?”

Crowley huffed out an incredulous laugh. “Everything you do feels good.”

Aziraphale bit his lip, and then grasped Crowley’s cock firmly in his hand, stroking. Crowley cried out and fell forward, pressing his forehead against Aziraphale’s. Crowley was the perfect size and length to fit within his hand as he stroked him. But then a thought occurred to him.

“Crowley, have you… have you done this before?”

Two golden eyes opened above him and Crowley chuckled. “Yeah, angel, I’m not a virgin.” But then an uncertainty tugged at his brows. “Wait, have you?”

Warmth rose in his cheeks. “Er, yes, actually I have. During my first year of college, another boy in my dorm and I slept together a few times. But…” He bit his lip, holding back the honesty that had threatened to spill forth. What was he going to say? But never with anybody that made his heart pound an unsteady rhythm in his chest. Never with anybody who looked at him like he mattered more than anything else in the world. He wanted to skip past that, but Crowley was still looking at him expectantly.

“But?”

He sighed. “But never with anyone who I care about as much as I care about you.”

Crowley’s eyes widened and for a moment Aziraphale worried he had said to much, gone too far, scared him away. But then Crowley let out a whine and kissed him ferociously. He kissed back, slightly surprised. When he pulled away, he stared right into Crowley’s eyes.

“Is that ok?”

Crowley’s smile was like the first rays of a sunrise. “Yeah angel, that’s more than ok.”

“Oh, good.”

Crowley’s hands moved to the buttons on his sweater vest. “May I? I want to see all of you.”

He swallowed loudly but nodded. Crowley undressed him slowly, almost reverently, his eyes shining in the dim light. Once his vest and bow tie were off, he began to help him with the button up and undershirt.

“Why,” Crowley growled, “do you wear so many layers? It’s the middle of summer.”

Aziraphale huffed and rolled his eyes and he untucked the undershirt and pulled it over his head. “I do have standards.”

And then there was nothing between his skin and Crowley’s gaze. Crowley leaned back so that he could fully look at him. His eyes raked down his chest and stomach, and suddenly Aziraphale felt incredibly self-conscious. He wrapped his arms around his middle and looked away.

“I know I don’t look quite as good as you. I’m a bit soft and I would benefit from some manual labor. If you don’t like it, I understand—”

He was cut off when Crowley gripped his wrists tightly in his hands. He looked up, startled, to see Crowley looking at him like he had lost his mind.

“Aziraphale, pardon my language, but what the actual fuck are you talking about?”

Aziraphale blinked. “I- what?”

“How can you think you’re anything besides drop dead gorgeous? The first time I looked at you I thought I had died and gone to heaven because you looked like a genuine angel. You’re fucking beautiful and laying my hands on you feels like and act of sacrilege.” He ran his hands down Aziraphale’s sides, causing his whole body to shiver.

“I’ve never seen a body as perfect as yours. May I show you?”

Aziraphale licked his lips, and then nodded. Another grin flashed across Crowley’s face. Then he was moving downwards, placing kisses on his chest and stomach until he was on his knees between his legs. Aziraphale sat up on his elbows so he could watch him. Crowley’s long fingers unfastened his belt and slid it out of the belt loops. He then moved on to the button and zipper. Aziraphale had to bite back a moan when he undid it with his teeth. His eyes flashed up to his once more as he grasped the waistband of his pants, and with one tug, Aziraphale was completely bare. Even though the night air was warm, he couldn’t help but shiver.

His cock stood straight up, red and flushed and completely hard. He wasn’t quite as long as Crowley, but he was thick and firm. Crowley seemed to like it, in any case, if the moan that escaped his lips was any indication. Aziraphale watched with flushed cheeks as Crowley wrapped his hand around him and gave him a stroke. His head dropped back, and he groaned. The combination of Crowley touching him and looking at him like that was almost too much. He had never imagined he would be able to have this.

Crowley stroked him a few times, his eyes darting from Aziraphale’s face to the cock in his hand. His thumb rubbed over the tip, gathering the moisture, and Aziraphale cried out.

“Does that feel good angel?”

“Oh, Crowley, yes. That feels marvelous.”

“Can I… can I taste you?”

Aziraphale nodded with a bit too much enthusiasm. Oh, yes, he wanted that so badly. He wanted to know what it would feel like to- _oh God!_ He shouted when Crowley licked him from balls to tip, stopping to swirl his tongue around the head. Seeming bolstered by that reaction, Crowley grinned, and then took him all the way into his mouth. Aziraphale fought the urge to buck up. The heat and pressure of Crowley’s mouth was unlike anything he had ever felt before. Even though he had had sex before, the other young man had never wanted to do anything like this.

But Crowley, oh Crowley, he sucked him down like a starving man. The sight of such a gorgeous man with his mouth stretched wide around his cock almost made him come, but he resisted. He didn’t want this to be over. Crowley took him into his throat and swallowed. Aziraphale’s hand flew down to those red locks and he tugged, earning him a deep moan from Crowley. Oh, he liked that did he? He tugged again.

“Oh, Crowley, that feels amazing. Oh my darling, you’re doing such a fantastic job. God, Crowley!”

He knew he was babbling, but what else could he do when Crowley’s throat was constricting around him as he continuously took him deeper. He felt himself building and yanked more urgently.

“Crowley, Crowley, stop, I’m getting close!”

Crowley hummed and continued sucking, but Aziraphale pulled harder.

“No, not like this. Not for our first time.”

Crowley finally pulled off and looked up at him with fully blown pupils and his mouth red and wet. “What do you mean angel? Don’t you want to come in my mouth?” His voice was hoarse from the overuse.

Aziraphale whimpered, because oh God, did he ever. But not this time.

“I do, but not this time. Crowley, would you… I mean do you want—”

“Aziraphale,” Crowley said patiently. “What is that you want?”

Aziraphale licked his lips. “I want you inside of me.”

He hadn’t thought it possible for Crowley’s pupils to grow wider, but they did then, nearly swallowing the gold.

“That is, only if you want.”

Crowley huffed out an incredulous laugh and slid back up his body. “Angel, I can honestly say I’ve never wanted anything more.”

He pressed another kiss to his mouth and the taste of himself on him once again almost made him come untouched. But then Crowley pulled away and dug around in the sack beside the bed. When he sat up again, he was holding a small container of Vaseline. Aziraphale raised his eyebrows.

“Do you carry that around everywhere?”

Crowley chuckled. “For personal use only.” He dipped his fingers in and covered them in a layer of the shining gel. “Have you done it this way before?”

Again, Aziraphale nodded. Crowley brought his hand down and rubbed one finger against the tight muscle of his entrance. Aziraphale sucked in a breath as he breached him, pressing into him in one solid movement. Once he was all the way in up to the knuckle, he paused and looked up at Aziraphale.

“Is that ok? How do you feel?”

“Good,” he breathed. “Please, keep going.”

Crowley began to move, working him open with one finger and then a second. Aziraphale rocked his hips slightly along with him. By the time he had three fingers in him, Aziraphale was moaning for more.

“Crowley, please, I’m ready. I want you inside of me. I want you to fuck me.”

“ _God, Aziraphale,_ ” Crowley groaned.

He pulled his fingers out and for a moment Aziraphale felt horribly empty. But then Crowley was on his knees in between his legs and he was lining his cock up to his entrance. His eyes darted up and met his.

“Are you ready, angel? We can stop now if you want.”

Aziraphale gripped him by the back of the neck and pulled him into a bruising kiss. “Don’t you dare stop. If you don’t fuck me in the next five seconds, I’m going to roll you over and do it myself.”

Pure heat and arousal burned in Crowley’s gaze, and then he was pushing into him. There was a sharp pressure as the head of his cock forced its way past the ring of muscle, but then he was through and sliding all the way in. Aziraphale wanted to squeeze his eyes shut, to ground himself in the singular sensation of them joining, but found himself unable to look away from Crowley’s face. His eyes were shut, and his mouth had fallen open in a silent shout as he pushed all the way in. It wasn’t until he was fully seated that he opened his eyes and looked down at Aziraphale. He wasn’t sure what expression Crowley saw on his face, but it made him look at him in wonder.

“How does that feel? Are you ok angel?”

“Oh, I’m more than ok darling. You feel incredible inside me. I’ve never felt so full, so complete.”

Crowley bit his lip, and for a moment Aziraphale worried he was going to cry, but then he smiled. “Good. Are you ok if I start to move?”

Aziraphale nodded. “Please do.”

Crowley began with long, slow thrusts in and out of him. Each time the head would threaten to pop out before pushing all the way back in. The few times Aziraphale had done this before, it had only felt ok. The guy had been just as inexperienced as he was, and they had been rushed and sloppy. This was nothing like that. This was slow and building and intense. This felt like something changing inside him, like Crowley was slowly undoing the fabric that had held him together up to this point and was putting him back together with his own hands.

As Crowley picked up the pace and began to thrust into him with more vigor, Aziraphale couldn’t help the steady stream of sounds escaping him. He reached up and dug his fingers into his shoulder. Then Crowley hit a bundle of nerves inside him and he saw stars.

“Crowley, oh god, Crowley, yes just like that! Right there! Fuck.”

At the sound of him cursing, Crowley moaned and closed eyes. “If you keep talking like that I’m not going to last. I’m already so close.”

Aziraphale tossed his head as Crowley changed the angel so that he was repeatedly hitting that spot inside him. Crowley had moved his ankles to that they were on his shoulders, and the sight was incredible. Crowley seemed to agree, his eyes wide as he took in Aziraphale below him.

“Crowley, shit, I’m not going to last either.”

At that, Crowley wrapped his hand around his cock and began to stoke him in time with the thrusts. “Come for me love. Come on angel, let me see you fall apart because of me.”

And at that he could hold back no longer. He came with a cry, his whole body shaking as he came across Crowley’s fist and his chest. At the sight, Crowley followed him over, his own orgasm ringing a long moan out of him. Aziraphale felt the warmth as Crowley spilled inside him. He had never felt anything better. Once he was finished, Crowley rolled off of him, slipping out so that he could lay on his back beside him. They both breathed heavily, coming down off the high they had just reached. Aziraphale opened his eyes, feeling a bit dazed, only to see the stars above him through the open skylight. When he finally managed to turn his head and look at Crowley, he saw that he looked just as dazed.

“How was is, darling?”

Crowley blinked and turned to him, a delirious little smile on his face. “Do you really need to ask? I’ve never come so hard in my life. You’re perfect, angel.”

Aziraphale returned the smile, the fear that so often times lived within him nowhere in sight. For the first time in a very long, time Aziraphale didn’t feel panicked about what was going to happen next. All he knew was that he wanted Crowley by his side.

“For me as well. You’re a very skilled lover.”

Crowley face slushed red, which was ridiculous after what they had just done. “Er, well, thanks. So are you.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “You did all the work, dear.”

Crowley studied his face for a moment, and then sat up. Aziraphale watched as he grabbed a rag and dipped it into the bucket of cold water. When he came back, he climbed onto the mattress beside him and began to meticulously wipe off his stomach and chest. Aziraphale watched him in silence. Crowley seemed to have a grace and steadiness to everything he did. Once he was finished, he tossed the rag onto the floor and laid back down beside him. There seemed to be a nervous and unsure energy radiating of him. Aziraphale reached out and stroked his hair.

“What’s wrong?”

Crowley flinched and looked up at him. “Wrong? Nothing’s wrong. It’s just, well, I assume you’ll be wanting to go back to your room now.”

Aziraphale frowned. Did Crowley really still not understand? He took him by the jaw and turned his face to look at him. “Darling, weren’t you paying attention? I told you I don’t want you to let me go, and I meant that. You’re my best friend, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Crowley let out a breath, a small, hopeful smile pulling at his lips. “Oh. Ok. Well, good.”

Aziraphale smiled and rolled over, curling up against the bare skin of his chest. “Is it? Good, I mean.”

Crowley hummed. “Yeah, it’s great. You’re my best friend too. I want you to stay.”

Aziraphale knew that there was more they needed to talk about. Long conversations and serious things they needed to consider if this was the future they wanted. But that was for later. Right now, all he wanted was to lie here with Crowley under the open stars, completely bare in the summer night heat, and bask in the realization that he was very much in love with his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They have finally gotten to this point! I really loved writing this chapter and I hope you enjoyed reading it just as much. I just really love these soft boys. 
> 
> P.S.- Don't actually use Vaseline as a lubricant, use a water based lube. Unfortunately they didn't start selling lube commercially until 1980, so the boys are making due with what they've got.


End file.
